Anthony glanced at James as the latter let go of him and created a bit of distance between the two. "Yes, I do," he said, though he couldn't help but feel a bit...disappointed, perhaps? by James' immediate reaction to it. He had to remind himself that James is a kid and doesn't mean anything by it and is probably just reprising what other adults have said to gim.

James looked up at him with big eyes and then quickly looked around. He moved away further and climbed off the bed. "I have to go now..." he said in a small voice.

Oh. He should've expected that that this would happen. Even so, he still felt....hurt, maybe. "That's fine," Anthony responded after a moment of silence. "bye, James." For a brief moment, he was so caught up in the euphoria of having a kid that he existed in a world where homophobia didn't exist. Even though he was very certsin thst he has ruined their relationship forever, Anthony still immediately jumped to James' defense, however—he's just a kid, he doesn't know any better, he's just repeating what other people have told him, he's young and impressionable.

James didn't look at Anthony, but looked at the ground, his shoulders pulled up. He started hopping away, leaving the bedroom, but he had trouble finding the exit in this unfamiliar building and he was slow too. After taking a wrong turn twice, he panicked and started crying quietly.

Anthony held his head in his hands, blinking away the tears that yet again began to swell up in his eyes. He was not new to these kinds of reactions, of course, but somehow it felt just a little bit worse when brought about by a person he actually liked. After a bit of time, Anthony started crying yet again, staring at the ground as he did so. Like deja vu, Anthony suddenly felt as if this had happened before, before he realized that this is an almost universal reaction whenever he comes out to someone who isn't also a man of similar tastes, and one specific person and memory came to mind, though he tried to suppress the memory, to limited success.

Though he may have been able to hear James' weeping as well—by virtue of the thin walls—he didn't do anything about it. Perhaps he was afraid to offend or make him uncomfortable. Perhaps he was too bitter to even care.

James eventually found the exit. He looked back at the house and felt sad. For a moment, he had thought he had found a friend and father and could lead a new, happy life. But now he realized that he had dodged a bullet. He started hopping in the direction of his home.