His brows raise. The confusion on his face is transparent.

“You misjudge me,” he says. “I only mean to offer you an escape. Surely you don’t want me to…”

It feels like his mother might burst from a nearby doorway and whip his palms raw if he says something so crude, even after all these years, so he lets it hang there. He looks away briefly, frustrated and thoroughly glad he doesn’t blush easily.

“I do not want to hurt you.”