[he doesn't expect her to be so quick or so vehement in her denial-- he doesn't even expect her to deny anything in the first place. it shocks him, for a second, long enough that he actually stares at her while she speaks. he's been avoiding people's eyes since the trial, afraid of what he might see in them and of what he might think or remember that isn't his, but he doesn't think about any of that right now. he wants to believe her-- he really does, just like he's wanted to believe any of the others who've tried speaking to him, yet something in him balks and lurches.]

But you were right. You guys figured it out, and if he-- if it hadn't been caught--

[it could've been marinette by one vote and she would've died anyway, without the chance to stop him. the thought makes tears well up in his eyes and he's quick to wipe at them. he'd thought himself all cried out a week ago and yet here he is, again. that... kind of angers him, actually, and he's half-glaring at the ground when he continues:]

Who cares about my feelings? If I'd died back in week one everyone would've been better off, nothing I did here-- nothing I did mattered, all I did was put everyone in danger, and he... That, that thing, he was banking on all of you feeling sorry for me, or liking me, and... And if you guys had he'd still be around.

[he stops himself there because that was... mildly hysterical. he takes in a deep breath to try to focus.]

I know what he said to you. But you shouldn't-- you shouldn't pay attention or bother with any of it, because he was just being cruel. That's what he did. He wanted you to obsess over it. But you guys didn't break me. Alright? So you don't have to worry about it.