[He stares down at her hand covering his, and then abruptly turns away, dropping his legs over the side of the bed as he shows his bare back to her. Yes, this is the same man who hugged her so guilelessly yesterday -- and today he can't stand to be touched. That is what his curse means to him.]
You told me not to think of you as a person, but you think my appearance doesn't matter. [He shakes his head, finding that contradictory and just -- how can she touch him so kindly and call it routine?] It matters to me.