He knew this hurt you just as much as it hurt him, he knew you had every right to hate him, but it still hurt when you wouldn’t even listen to his reasoning, hell you wouldn’t even look at him. A few days ago they had found out he was a spy. Now you were walking into the interrogation room, sitting across from him, your face unreadable besides the betrayal etched in. “Come on, at least look at me love. Please.” He pleaded desperately.