Anthony sighed. "Well, even tough guys like me cry sometimes," he looked at James. Wow, he actually feels like he's going to start crying soon from the sheer impact that talking about his feelings has on him.Which would prove his point.

"Oh... When you cry, I'll make you porridge, to cheer you up," the boy offered with a smile.

Anthony smiled. "Thank you, James," he said, raising his hand to cover the upper half of his face as he felt himself tear up. Shit. Fuck. He didn't think he'd actually start crying from his overwhelming emotions. But he is. Fuck.

James stared. And stared. Then he got off the bed and hopped over the the kitchen. "Where's yer oats!?" He called out. The man had to be very hungry, following him up on that offer straight away...

God-fucking-damn it James. Did the kid notice he was crying? Fuck. "You don't—have to do anything for me," Anthony called out after a moment, his voice cracking. Despite the fact that he's crying his eyes out at this point, he still wasn't going to make the kid make HIM food. That would be a dick move.

"Don't worry, uncle Anthony! I've got this!" James called out, while searching the cupboard. He found oats, put them in a pan and added water. They always used water at home, since there was never any money for milk. That money was spent on other beverages.

Anthony wanted to protest for a moment, but having thought it to be in vain, decided against it, choosing instead to hold his head in his hands and just cry and sob. It felt very embarrasing, but also kind of freeing. He hoped that James was focused enough on what he was doing that he wouldn't hear him.

After a little while, James hopped back in with a bowl of watery boiled oats. He would put the bowl down, hop, put the bowl a little further and hop again. And in this way, he hopped into the room. "Here you go, uncle Anthony. Ye'll feel better after this."

Anthony looked up as James returned, wiping his tears away with his hand. However, this was basically pointless as being called 'uncle Anthony' just made him cry even more. He accepted the bowl, smiling at him for a brief moment. "You really didn't have to," he said. "but thank you." good fucking going anthony

James climbed back on the bed. "You cry a lot," he pointed out.