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[ he's ready to check out of this conversation, and he nearly does. he tosses his phone away, flips through a few dramas on the tv, wanders to the kitchen to stare into the small fridge. he wants to reply with something acidic, like of course an idiot like you wouldn't or fuck off, because there's an uncomfortable pressure in his chest that he needs to relieve. but he doesn't think saying any of those things will make it go away.

he flops back down onto the couch, hair sprawling over the edge. ]

say we were locked in a cage together. there's no way to break out. there are guards pointing guns at you from across the room, and they tell you only one person in the cage can leave. and if you want to be that person, you have to kill the other one. you would kill me.