"If I say I can do it, then why don't you trust me?" I adamantly refuse.
Dexter grits, his grip on my palm is squeezing but he's careful not to hurt me.
"Because…" he begins, staring me straight in the eyes, "knowing you, you'll hole yourself in here all day just to get it right when it took years of perfection to get to my current level."
I can't refute his words, on the contrary, he's very accurate.
Supposing Dexter didn't see my current condition then I would have gone outside and continued my training, but he's here now and there's no way to refuse him.
"I didn't say I want to be perfect, I just want to get it right."
"And I'm telling you it's normal to not get it right in your first day, so why don't you just listen to me!"
The room falls into silence as he walks over to the co
