"How can I be mad at the truth?" Gus asks rhetorically, quoting a philosophy principle he learned once. He doesn't elaborate for a moment, torn between explanation and silence.
"Cualli, I think you misunderstand me. I truly mean I won't get between anything because that's not what I want. I don't think less of you,-"
He rubs his gloved hands and takes a moment to gather his thoughts, sighing.
"I am 31 years old- nearly 32. I have been fighting this war for two years. I've seen enough for several lifetimes, let alone this one. I want nothing more than for this all to end, to head back home, start a family and live out the rest of my life in peace. I-,"
He goes quiet again to consider his position now. The cold north Aesthian air seems fitting, and he speaks again softly.
"Commitment is an unsure thing, our jobs considered. You are a remarkable person and I only want the best for you. But-," he turns to look into her eyes, "I'm not going between you and him."
Gus stands open and vulnerable in the near-empty airfield, feeling smaller than he ever had before. The cold never bothered him until now, and he shivers.