He offers half a smile, glancing at her just for a second. He's grateful for the thought, even if it makes him a little uncomfortable.

'Guess not.'

Still, it takes a while longer before he tackles it.

'I could just get another room, I suppose. But that's...I'm just sick of it.'

He closes his eyes, and tamps down the flare that tells him how much he's sick of this. It's not anger. Just...resignation.

'I spend all my time thinking about what my surroundings are like, what I eat, how much I sleep, who I talk to. Just-'

The frustration may be coming through a little.

'-counting my heart beat so it doesn't go too high, or doing breathing exercises, or - shit, all of it.'

He wants to say, it's not life. But doesn't. He shrugs instead, and looks down.

'It was easier to just come down here, where it won't be a problem.'