"I know." Through gritted teeth, as he lifts his hand to knead the heel of his palm into an eye, and feeling a sudden burst of frustration that he doesn't even get that small relief, of being able to rub tear-sore eyes until he could pretend the ache was something else.

So he just sighs heavily, and lets his hand flop, letting it catch on his loose tie and spontaneously pulling it even more so, half-unravelling it. "I know," he repeats more softly. "I just... I don't know. I don't even know if I want people in my life, half the time. There's a... there's a duty to them, that- th-that I don't know if I can live up to."