[ charles almost, almost answers back with and how's that going for you, but then — well, considering avoidance is his primary tactic with all of his own shit, especially the stuff with his dad, saying anything would make him a right hypocrite.

instead, he shifts his position, too, pulling his legs up and turning so he's sitting angled towards junpei. and then he sighs. ]

Yeah, I get it. I wouldn't forget any of the shitty stuff in my life, either.

[ because, really, not so much bad that there's not some good, too — and often that good is enough, more than enough, to pull through all the rest. and in many ways, it's the shitty stuff that makes you; what'd be left, without those memories? he doesn't have to like it to get it, really.

gently, he threads his fingers through junpei's, gives them another squeeze. ]

Thanks. You know, for telling me. I know it's... [ trailing off, he shrugs, tilting his head down as he frowns at the bedding. ] I don't like thinking about stuff, either. [ "stuff", of course, standing in for "everything to do with his home situation". ] Or talking about any of it. And I didn't mean to force you to remember all that, but — I'm glad I know.