How the hell am I supposed to know shit like that if you don't tell me? I have no fucking clue what this 'gate' is, remember? Because you didn't want to explain it to 'every single person who passes by and asks.' I'm not even enough of a friend to you to merit a damn explanation. You made a chair with some kind of fucking magic, and then you got mad at me for no fucking reason. You don't want my pity, but you sure didn't want me acting normal around you either. I backed off because I didn't have a goddamn choice. I'm not going to sit at your feet like some kind of slave, and I sure as hell won't sit on your lap.
Or maybe that's what you wanted, Ophiuchus. You've been after my ass since we met. Did you want me sitting across your lap like a good little whore?