Demian stared up at the woman beside him. Sorine has been quietly munching away her bread as her eyes stare off at the distance. He was, for once, being considerate. It seems that he has been considerate for the sake of her one too many times ever since he met her. He simply didn't know why. Maybe it was the certain blank look that grew on her face when she was met with something she wasn't familiar with. Maybe it was the sheepish look darted across to him, or to anyone that she relied upon at the moment. But he hated it too. He hated the guts of this naive woman, the nerve of her to be so oblivious all the while striking the protective side of him. The nerve of her to be this naive but he also knew that it was not exactly her fault. She was locked up, well she did chose to be locked up. Demian sighed with controlled frustration, closing his eyes. The conditions were so many. He couldn't decide whether this woman infuriated him or whether he found her tolerable.