Don't act like you have to tell me anything. I'm not you. We just look the same, and share certain experiences. That's not to say we can't help each other, of course.

[He leans back against the wall, though, like he owns the place.]

Why did you ask me in? You look ready to die yourself. A second time, even. [Like, did he want something? Does he want company besides a butterfly? Is he just fascinated by the redundancy of the two of them?]