It was a hard talk, yeah. Hard enough that for once, some of Atton's mask dropped off of his face without a meltdown, without a too-much-right-now, and left him looking at Sparkle like. Something.

Like he knew exactly what that was like. Like it hurt, hearing those words coming from Sparkle's mouth, because of all the people in the galaxy he didn't deserve to feel like that. Like he wanted to jump over the table and give Sparkle a hug and say some cloying, sentimental, true poodoo about how important he was, how Atton was an ass who spent so much time in meltdown mode and not enough time telling the guy that he cared, that-- something something.

He sat back after a moment, out of the light, and let the mask slide back across his face. Took a deep breath.

"'Cause that gets in you, buries itself deep, and won't let go until you rip your own heart out to get at it," he drawled. "Probably."