[The look on Abduxel's face is quiet surprise. Chilton had really been throwing him for a loop this appointment. This clearly hadn't been precisely what he was going to say. He's never so openly thought about whether any of these people genuinely cared for him, because it seemed without question that they didn't, and he himself could so easily justify why.
He looks away and it takes a moment for him to reply; when he does, the hostility in his tone has ebbed away to a sincere curiosity, pointing out what he sees as plain facts to make sense of what Chilton had said:]
But you don't trust me in the slightest. You think I'm out to betray you - that I don't care for your welfare.
Do you care for my personal well-being, or just for how I can be useful to your cause?
[It's not accusatory or angry; it sounds as plain and honest as anyone clarifying the nature of things. A genuine question, unburdened by second meanings and darker implications. He's leaning forward on the couch when he asks it, expression open and creased with lack of understanding.]
no subject
He looks away and it takes a moment for him to reply; when he does, the hostility in his tone has ebbed away to a sincere curiosity, pointing out what he sees as plain facts to make sense of what Chilton had said:]
But you don't trust me in the slightest. You think I'm out to betray you - that I don't care for your welfare.
Do you care for my personal well-being, or just for how I can be useful to your cause?
[It's not accusatory or angry; it sounds as plain and honest as anyone clarifying the nature of things. A genuine question, unburdened by second meanings and darker implications. He's leaning forward on the couch when he asks it, expression open and creased with lack of understanding.]