Leave me alone, he almost yells. The words stick to the roof of his mouth, like his tongue is reluctant to let them fly. Lucifer deceived him, used him, hurt him — but at least he's someone. In the silence that hangs between them, Wilhelm turns away and pushes his hands through his hair, gathers his breath like the pieces of something broken and forces it out. He tries to wipe his face dry. He tries to stop himself from reading too much into Lucifer's offer disguised as a threat.

"Fine," he finally mumbles. A bedraggled white flag of surrender. His eyes avoid Lucifer, his arms curl around himself. "I don't...I don't fucking care anymore."

Which is a fucking lie. He stumbles into a step backwards, then turns and keeps walking.