Apologising is a habit, a bad one, but that doesn't make it less sincere. It comes from kind of a fucked up place where he actually feels as if he's always doing everything wrong. He still has to pause to think about what, exactly, he's apologising for.
Wolfgang gestures at his head. "For... that." Being disturbing, not containing it well — he's apologising for it having happened, for not having thought ahead and remembered that she has these powers and he has recurring nightmares. He feels inconsiderate, like he should have remembered and done something proactive about it, and guilty because it's his fear of his magic and what it could do to his mind that's kept him from doing so.
It's very hard to convey that much in two spoken words, and his tone is shaky, bordering frustrated that he can't say all that out loud. This is difficult to process on top of the residual feelings he has from the narrative of that dream. He picks at the grooves in the wood of the table with his nails. "I should have done something about it," he ventures, finally.
no subject
Wolfgang gestures at his head. "For... that." Being disturbing, not containing it well — he's apologising for it having happened, for not having thought ahead and remembered that she has these powers and he has recurring nightmares. He feels inconsiderate, like he should have remembered and done something proactive about it, and guilty because it's his fear of his magic and what it could do to his mind that's kept him from doing so.
It's very hard to convey that much in two spoken words, and his tone is shaky, bordering frustrated that he can't say all that out loud. This is difficult to process on top of the residual feelings he has from the narrative of that dream. He picks at the grooves in the wood of the table with his nails. "I should have done something about it," he ventures, finally.