[ 'What do you fucking think?' -- is what he wants to say at first. It would be the easiest answer, after all. A kneejerk response composed of his usual shitty bristling, the type of thing that would immediately put most people on the back foot and teach them not to pry.

Maybe it's the fact that Gray had answered him so plainly, so honestly, that makes it harder to resort to that usual defensive measure. Gen is instead silent for a moment, taking another slow drag of cigarette. He lets the smoke wisp from his lips as he answers quietly. ]

I told you before, I'm also from the sticks. ... I always knew I was gonna spend my whole life there. I was supposed to die there. It wasn't ever worth thinking about what life might've been like outside of it. Waste of time.

[ Gray's fingers gently untangle another lock of his hair, a few loose strands coming to slip past his brow. ]

Figured I could just do the same here. Do what I have to do, like I always have. ... s'just been more exhausting than I thought it would, even though it should be the same.

[ He's not like Gray, he can't just be honest. This roundabout confession is the only way he can admit that he's in agreement with her -- slowly but surely, this place is starting to suffocate him, too. ]