He looked at her now that she had moved away from him, and despite every fiber of his body telling him to leave, he drew closer once more, grabbing her by both wrists and pinning her to the door of her own room. "You can't stop now, otherwise it will look suspicious" he whispered into her ear. He hated it. Everything was for show, and nothing meant anything. It was to avoid shit like that, this is why he kept his head down, this is why he approached everything with a half-ass apathy. To have hope, it's as suffocating as it is to despair. Here she was, talking about hope, talking about trying to escape, talking about shit that would not work.<br/><br/>"I get it. I wouldn't mind living a free life, and doing something, anything, other than this. However, at the same time, I am just as comfortable here. I don't want to try and get out of it will compromise the present. It either has to work, or I won't do it at all" he said. He leaned in as if going for another kiss, his lips but an inch away from her own.<br/><br/>"But, you can't always get what you want."