[He was important, once. Doesn't feel important, even in full dress, uniform wrapped tight around his sweeping form, but it's hard to forget something so deeply ingrained. A bit of that inflated ego seeps out anyway, like a barrier meant to keep Trevor at bay. To convince him to steer clear, though he's inching closer.]

To your body, obviously. Wasn't that clear enough?

[He shakes his head, not to say no—not to Trevor, at least. To himself, maybe, to convince himself of crumbling standards. His back hits brick and some small voice tells him submit.]

You've ingested something, so... there's no other choice. It won't abate.

[When in doubt, redirect the blame. This isn't his fault. It was the fault of this stranger, built like a bear, and bearing down on him in turn.]