*sighs* [I don't know what you think you see, sunshine.] *sets his coffee aside, pushes himself to his feet and meanders over to the window sill, collecting Mabel from her usual perch there*
*rather gently, his nose buried in the cat's fur* [When have I ever rejected anyone who needed me? When have I rejected you when you needed me?] *rests his cheek on Mabel's head and gazes at you bleakly, hopeless to make you understand* [I am tired, Glorfindel. If I'm "not well", it's because I'm tired. If I'm "not myself", it's because I am tired. And I'm not going to fight you, no matter how hard you push. Because I'm tired.]