There's a harshness to her words which makes him fluster. His small request suddenly something Amelia's resentful of, and every action laid out before him is one of wickedness. His cheeks turn red, his eyes start to as well. He wants to tell her that's not what he meant, but... then that would be unkind as well. Hope and hopeless are both unfair here, and he feels the fear rise again as he makes what will inevitably be the wrong decision, no matter what he picks.

He pulls away from her, pressing into the chair as if it might hide him. A hand starts rubbing his chest and neck, hoping that might calm the stress curling around it and restricting his breathing. "I don't want to. Don't... Don't ask me to. Amelia... please... I... Let's just... stop."