“I still don’t like it,” he retorts, crossing his arms. “When y’get all secretive like this it ain’t ever good news. Fuck, would it kill ya to talk to me?” Ironically, he can feel a little of the frustration you must have been dealing with just a while ago when you were grilling him about the knives, though he convinces himself that that was a completely different matter. You’re not the sacrifice. You’re not the one that can just be used up and thrown away. He’s long since accepted his role as that and you constantly trying to take that away from him when it was an active choice on his part to give away his life for yours is nothing short of an insult.

He sighs, knowing he won’t get anything out of you anyway. Damn stubborn kid! “You’re not gonna tell me anything, are ya?” He shakes his head, brow furrowing. “Listen, just … don’t do anything stupid, okay? I ain’t worth that.”