Owen shook his head, automatically patting Vincent's back to soothe him.
"No," he said, pulling back to look intently into Vincent's eyes. "You don't need another chance. We both need to do better. We probably... I don't mean to make excuses, I just... I didn't want to keep harping on about the thirst, I try to fight it, really I do but it just... makes me want to scratch my eyeballs out sometimes just so I can pop them and squeeze some more blood into me somehow," he laughed weakly, wishing it was a joke and that he hadn't thought exactly that, at times.
"I thought you'd be able to feel it, anyway, and if I went on and on about it, you'd get annoyed. I'm sorry it made me ignore you, I do love you and, back there, when you were kissing me... that was really nice," he admitted with a hopeful smile, cupping Vincent's cheek. "I can't promise you anything earth-shattering, but I'd really like to go home and take that break you offered?"