"Well, you're not trying to help me make it better," he argued in an equally angry tone. It was never one he used with women, let alone a woman that he cared for. But there was a first time for everything.
"You tell me it's hopeless. You misunderstand the suggestions I make. You accuse me of things I haven't done. It's like you're deliberately trying not to help me fix this, it's like you want to end our friendship. Is that why you're so damn willing to walk away? Well I'm not, so knock it off!"
He ran frustrated hands through his hair, standing it on end. "I don't want to have sex with you, but if we do, it won't be bad sex. And I wasn't looking at your ass, I'm not that sneaky and you should know that. And you should know by now that there's nothing you can throw at me that's going to make me leave you. You are my friend. You drive me fucking insane half the time, and batshit crazy the other half, but I keep coming back, don't I? Because you make my life better. So don't you dare think I'm going to let you take that away from me without a fight. I'm not walking away, and I'm not letting you either, and if having a few titillating fantasies now and then is all it takes to try to make you run, then too damn bad."
Kratos stripped off his shirt, throwing it down the hall. "Have a good look. This is the way I look. All the time. It's the way I look when I'm sleeping. It's the way I look when we're drinking. It's the way I look when you take pictures of me after I've passed out because you thought it would be funny to up the alcohol content of that batch just so you could laugh at me drooling in my sleep. This is the way I have always looked. That's the way you've always looked. So get used to it!"