[Harry is pitiful in the most literal sense; Jean looks at him and for a second can only feel an all-encompassing pity—for this sad, shameful stranger that looks a little like his friend but mostly looks like a bird left too long in the rain. He's completely pathetic. He genuinely feels bad, even when he doesn't know why, because he doesn't want to be a bad person anymore. Maybe he's not. Jean isn't sure.
He stares at Harry for a moment, suspended in his own confusion, before deciding that the Harry of here and now shouldn't be off the hook for what the Harry of the past did. Unfair, perhaps, but Jean isn't feeling fair. He's not sure what he's feeling otherwise, though.]
Don't you—you don't remember. Convenient of you. What do you mean that bad? You were worse. You're the worst person I've ever met.
[Jean pokes a claw in Harry's direction, eyes narrowed.]
Don't fucking give me that look. You're surprised that you were a horrible goddamn ghoul instead of...the Innocence of Bi-Sexuality? Patron saint of all—god, I can't stand you. I cannot stand you. Wipe that fucking look off your face, Shitkid.
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He stares at Harry for a moment, suspended in his own confusion, before deciding that the Harry of here and now shouldn't be off the hook for what the Harry of the past did. Unfair, perhaps, but Jean isn't feeling fair. He's not sure what he's feeling otherwise, though.]
Don't you—you don't remember. Convenient of you. What do you mean that bad? You were worse. You're the worst person I've ever met.
[Jean pokes a claw in Harry's direction, eyes narrowed.]
Don't fucking give me that look. You're surprised that you were a horrible goddamn ghoul instead of...the Innocence of Bi-Sexuality? Patron saint of all—god, I can't stand you. I cannot stand you. Wipe that fucking look off your face, Shitkid.