"The life with a bulimic girlfriend and a shitty house?" More information than he probably should have given, but it was harmless. Tidbits, really. He smiled unpleasantly at Harvey. "Because it's not real. Nine-to-five, business meetings, a dog and a yard -"

He sighed and shook his head, standing up to push Harvey toward the couch. He was answering, after all. "I already told you, Harvey, you're not the only one who's had to deal with the choice between this and that. I wouldn't have the, uh, skin grafts - but I'd be crawling out of my skin anyway." It felt - surprisingly not irritating to actually fill Harvey in more than usual.

"Sit down."