Always looking for reason in me, aren't you? You almost make me believe it's possible. That I might--just might--have a chance. You're so precious and naive, even with all of that experience with the harsh truth of the world under your belt.

[He could almost see the fight or flight instinct tugging at her. It was amusing, and honestly he didn't want to hurt her. Not her. Not without reason. Certainly, if she ran he'd give chase. That was without a doubt. If she fought, he'd stop her.]

Tell me why you think it isn't my problem?