Her touch draws his gaze to hers, though is own expression remains hollow. Inwardly, he feels heavy, like those promises carry a physical weight. He doesn't know what she thinks she's doing, talking like that. She's not with him. If she really was, something would feel different. He watches her in silence for a long few moments, though, before reaching up to take her hand and push it away.
 
It's not clear if it's a rejection. The motion is more gentle than he has been in the past. He looks away like nothing he's seeing right now is real and slowly departs back to the living room. From his pace, it seems less like he's trying to escape and more like something has distracted his attention.
 
He stares out the window he came in through, his ears flicking upwards in attention. Part of him wants to try to tell her what is worrying him now, but he knows that it will just cause unecessary trouble.
 
"I'm probably not going to come back," he says, finally. This time, not necessarily of his own choice.