*mumbles, somehow managing not to sound defensive so much as distant* I love the music (and I love him). That's good enough.
*dutifully lets you coddle him for a second or two before he pulls away, a flash of something truly dismal (I don't need to be taken care of) giving way to jest that doesn't quite ring true* Or maybe I'll fall in love and give up the whole Fountain gig. What will you lot do then, hm?
I'll think about it.
*looks at you gravely for a long moment (and you wouldn't know it, but he'd mastered that precise expression of solemnity as a very little boy)* Are you sure you're okay? You don't need to see a doctor?