[Anders leans into the contact, though it's more from difficulty supporting himself right now than wanting the touch. In some ways this would be far easier if he could simply walk away from Hawke's hands, pretend as though what he wants isn't just within reach. It can't really be, after all, but he desperately wants to believe it is.]

I made a few... advances. You never seemed interested.

[He sounds hurt despite himself, tired as well, and he wishes they could skip to the end of this so he could know how he was supposed to feel again.]

I thought you were... being polite...

[Maker, he feels heavy, drained now, and Anders closes his eyes, sways slightly in place.]

I thought you didn't want to tell me you didn't feel the same.