[He seems to crumble a little. Pulling his knees tighter to his chest. He doesn't quite bury his face in them, but it's close. He may be a handful of thousand years old, but that's teens to his kind. No, he doesn't want the honest answer.]
[Because he's sure he already knows what the answer is going to be.]
... You're gonna say it's not gonna get better. Aren't you?
no subject
[Because he's sure he already knows what the answer is going to be.]
... You're gonna say it's not gonna get better. Aren't you?