He steps into his living quarters, where you're laying underneath the covers, too exhausted to move. A small smile tugs at his lips as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face.

"I'm sorry it's been so long since I visited, I've been busy. But... That doesn't matter to you, does it? You've been here so long that Stockholm Syndrome has kicked in, hasn't it?"

He muses softly, sitting beside you on the bed and caressing your cheek.