Years of survival in purgatory turned once soft eyes into cold steel that cut sharper than any blade, yet he still held onto some of his humanity, and a part of him longed for the comfort of your embrace. But as he walked closer, there was no warmth left in his gaze, looking down at you as though he was struggling to recognize you, or rather the person whom he'd trusted to help him outta there. "I fought for my life every damn second.. while ya just.. enjoyed yourself, eh? Is that it?"