The vague expression of disgust on her face was just amusing enough to leave him chuckling, and he retracted the offer as quickly as he'd made it, returning the cigarette to his own mouth for another drag.
"Mais, I don' realleh know, me," he answered, suddenly feeling the weight of his previous concerns falling back into place. As if he'd needed a reminder of his painfully sober, philosophical dilemma. Shae had never been much of an open-book, typically choosing to bury his problems as deep in his psyche as possible, but for some reason this stranger seemed to have a loosening effect on his tongue.
"Didn' know wheah else ta go, I s'pose." He hesitated a moment, exhaling a plume of ivory white smoke through his nostrils. It was almost as though her simple question had invited some sort of authentic confidence, and he couldn't quite prevent the words from spilling past his lips. "Evah git da feelin' dat ev'ryt'ing jes'...wrong? Lahk, yo' whole life?"
He regretted the words as soon as he'd spoken them, although the pang of shame and self-loathing he'd expected to feel after giving voice to his doubts never seemed to surface. Instead, there was a sort of leaden heaviness in his gut, as though the weight of the admission had physically settled inside him. A little embarrassed by his show of vulnerability, he stuffed the cigarette between his lips and sucked, avoiding her eyes.