"You threw it at me," Cougar replies, irritably, because what was he supposed to think when Jake crumples up his confession and throws it away. He could say so much more, like how letters can take hours if not days and how he can get the right words on the page instead of a conversation. He could point out that his letters had still been brusque and to the point, at times.

Instead, he follows orders and sits back down, raising his brow when Jake keeps the letter. He tries not to let the guilt overwhelm him when Jake talks about how he hadn't felt like he could talk to him, which only gets worse when he brings up that Cougar hadn't told Jake about his personal life, which is true.

"Because I was telling you everything," he points out. "Because when I wrote you letters, I could hide under them and not have to drag out the words," he says, with a gesture that pulls from his core. "English, talking, it's hard for me. Writing? Easier. And when I started to fall for you, I couldn't tell you without you understanding how much I felt."