A thirty-something year old man should not have been able to give Liquid a look so sad and yet somehow so cute.

"I'm alone because I want to be alone. I chose to be alone."

Not that he'd had much of a choice, but it was better to think that he wanted to be alone than the alternative. He'd never had friends; just people who, for the moment, didn't want to kill him. He'd never allowed anyone to get close enough to him to know him out of paranoia for some unseen knife coming at his back.