[He ignores the first two. He knew that already; her reaction to realizing she'd hurt him was proof enough of that. Wants and worries that relate to him only aren't what he needs to hear right now.

It's only when she says the last, quietly and fearfully, that he finally closes the distance between them and reaches out to her, gripping her shoulders and ducking down so he can look her in the eyes properly. The hurt lingers, but it's softer now, slowly becoming overwhelmed instead by an urgent plea.]

I told you what I wanted already. If we both want the same thing, who cares about the rest? What other people want, or whether or not we're human- it doesn't matter. [His grip tightens, pulling her in a little closer, trying to urge her forward without forcing it.] When I said I loved you, that was my choice. I'm still making that choice, every day. You've gotta choose for yourself- not for me. Okay?