“It isn’t that,” he says, shaking his head. The smile on his face is for show — he doesn’t want anyone to know there’s something going on between you. His focus keeps flicking away from you, to his friends sat by the window in the pub, making sure you’re not drawing attention. When he finally settles on you again, his voice is low. His smile seems cold, now. “You’re just not part of this world. It’s not your fault. But it wouldn’t work. It’s— it was a bit of fun while we’re at uni, that’s all.”