[He makes a protesting sound into the kiss, but it's weak, half-hearted -- he's already learned that he's better off soaking up physical affection, since he's refusing himself anything else. And Felid's right. He does thrive on connections. He's been good about feeding his body, but in this other sense he's desperately starving, crippled by loneliness and the loss of everyone he trusted to stand by him. So he ends up kissing back, needy, clenching his fingers in the front of Felid's shirt and hating himself the whole time.]

You don't love me at all.