Ethan did not wish to begrudge Bree her sarcasm, but he did anyways. Consciously he understood that it was her way of coping with the fact that everything she believed, everything she had been taught about the world since birth, was being shattered. He understood that. At the same time he resented it. He resented the obligation that she represented, and he resented her for putting this burden on him.

After all, physically, Ethan had been alone since he had left his parents at age eighteen. But, emotionally, the child Ethan had been abandoned before the age of ten. Now, for the first time in a very long time, he was expected to confide in another human. He was expected to be accommodating, and truthful. And he didn’t want to. He didn't know how.

So he chose to linger in silence, waiting for something to arise and save him. He didn’t even realize that he was still scanning the numbers, was looking for something that could get him away, until he saw the chance to run. He took in a small breath, startled, before sighing. Was that really what he wanted to do? Did he really want to go back to running, with no goal in mind, glancing over his shoulder constantly, waiting for the world to fling him back towards Bree?

If it meant that he wouldn’t have to tell her anything, maybe. He let out a small snort of laughter, before picking up the shirt she flung at him and wringing it out. The watered down blood dripped onto the rock in a small torrent, and he stared at it blankly. He stuck the shirt back under his nose, wiping away the blood that had pooled in the corners of his eyes and in his ears with the hem.

For a moment there was silence, and he tried to relax. He tried to prepare himself so as to be able to answer her questions. But when she finally spoke again, he broke.

“What,” he said, voice dripping with pained sarcasm. “You want to know what I am?” He let out a harsh bark of a laugh, before tossing her shirt back at her. “Do you want me to say I’m a monster? That I sold my soul to the devil?” He was silent for just a moment, turning his eyes back to the water.

“Well, I didn’t,” he finally managed to spit out. “And I’m not. I’m a man. Just...” he choked slightly, gagging over the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, biting the inside of his lip, before choking out his final words. “Just a man who wants to live his life.”