Rush's eyes screw shut in an overstated blink of annoyance.

"No," he says slowly, dragging the word out between clenched teeth, frustrated that his own lack of an ability to adequately phrase the question may have contributed to the apparent misunderstanding. He crunches over the mat of fallen leaves to fall in step beside her, delivering an equally indignant look. "I mean is this your subconscious. Because it's not fucking mine." He's quite certain of this.