This conversation is going so badly, Dave can almost feel himself float out of his own body and watch as he single-handedly destroys his friendships from the skies above. But fuck, what's a guy meant to do? It's not like him to lie and say he's okay with something, even if it is like him to lie and pretend he's fine. It feels contrary to everything he's ever been told to just roll over and pretend it isn't happening, and it doesn't feel any better than vocally objecting.

But still, the way she's talking is starting to grate on him a little. He feels guilty, he doesn't want to feel guilty. He doesn't want to feel irrational for his feelings, either, but he's terrible at expressing them as it is.

"You're making it sound like I'm holding you hostage." He admits with a dejected sort of mumble, scuffing snow with his feet. "Things are already weird enough between me and him, alright? I duuno. I don't know how to deal with it." He shrugs, continuing despite having said he doesn't want to talk about it. "It's not like you and Elsa. Things are different. It's how we are."