“Is this disappointment?” He asked, arching an eyebrow. “I’m 90% sure I don’t give a fuck, actually.”
“I /do/ that. What, you don’t like being looked at? Gods forbid you should be looked at!”
“Usually I quite enjoy being looked at, but when an Empath shows up and tries to figure me out…”
“If I wanted to figure you out, boyo, I’d be done by now, and you’d not have noticed. I was just /looking/. I don’t wave my powers about like some flashy cheerleader. What the fuck are you, then?”