It's not hurting me.

[It's absolutely hurting him, digging deep and pulling the bile from out of him, pulling the nihilism and bitterness out of him full force.

He puts a hand over his eyes, and suddenly freezes, a thought hitting him.
He whirls on Jezebel, striding back over to him and leaning over him, baring his teeth at him in a spiteful grin, close enough so that Jezebel can smell the wine on his breath.]

Ah but--but. But. Perhaps you can help me.