[There's a few flashes of desperation, blackened fingers dragging their nails down invisible walls as his eyes wildly flick back and forth. Composure is shot to hell not out of fear for his life, but this inky, swirling feel of something sinking its claws into him from the inside. Her words don't stir an immediate response, his head bowing as his breathing quickens slightly.] Kitty...
Not like this-- it's not, ugh. It's not going to work. [Thickly, again his voice falls.] Please.