"I hardly find that thought to be offensive," he quipped. "Then again..." He tilted his head back and forth, lamenting her allegiances. Neville tipped his glass back, regarding her with darkened eyes, swimming with pain and fury. Then, he set the empty glass down and stood, towering over her easily. "What other choice do I have? I have no one else left. My Gran left me. She left. I shouldn't have been surprised, really, since she only ever stuck around for my father, and he died. He's dead. Gone."