[Ah, hell. Eight's eyes follow Ril intently, his face tight with the grief of watching her pain. But what can he do about it? If she wants him not to feel any hurt, how can he give her what she wants? He's not a Cyberman. He can't turn off the natural twinge of pain at the knowledge that his idea of their relationship isn't exactly what her idea had been.

He couldn't stop the emotion from existing, but...he could stop it from spilling out and hurting others. So, Eight swallows down the wounds on his heart (and his pride, if he's honest) and his hand rests over hers, frowning in concern at the coldness of her skin and the tears.]

Don't. Don't do this to yourself. It isn't your fault that our upbringings have been so...different. You can't have expected that I would feel nothing of this, but I'll never ask you to ignore your culture and conform to mine.

[He gives her a lopsided smile, trying to make a weak joke. Maybe that way, she'd think he's alright and would stop shivering. He just couldn't bear it if she got ill again because of his unhappiness.]

Not that I'm not already way out of the realm of what my upbringing taught.