Lucy's eyes became dinner-plates. She stared at him and mouthed What the hell?! He chose to keep his eye off her after that. He could hear her complaints just fine, he didn't need to see them as well. Besides, she wouldn't do something violent in front of a customer like tackle him out of sight and apologize...right?
"Fear you say? That is quite near the opposite response to your companion. Might it be that you're an assistant to train in the arts of love?"
"Shut yer yap. I'm not studying under anyone." He paused, silently wishing that maybe he'd take that as a hint to not ask him anything else.
"So, you said you weren't chatty, but perhaps just one reason as to why you believe that fear is the strongest? As I said before, I'm not here to judge, so feel free to be as offensive or off-putting as need be." Damnit.
"...The feeling of terror. It's something that never quite leaves you, no matter how far away in body or time you get from it." Involuntarily, memories collided into him. An enormous Tower stretching into the heavens, a pale man with red eyes, the feeling of an eye being gouged out of his own volition, knowing that you lived behind bars and would now die behind bars. He shook his head and took a breath to clear them.
He could feel Lucy staring at him, but didn't turn to look at her. He couldn't stand the thought of her looking at him with any form of worry or sympathy. He wasn't sure if it was that he found it disgusting or maybe, perhaps, embarrassing. Either way, it would be burdensome, and that wasn't what their relationship was supposed to be.
"That's my answer, take it or leave it."