"I'm sorry no one remembers you. People...shouldn't have to tear themselves apart to be at peace with themselves," Declan replied, rubbing at his other ear even as Ghost gave him a surprisingly dry look for a floating eyeball. Silent accusation that the Titan should heed his own words.

"Please don't make me do things," the Guardian added after a moment, looking up with a quizzical expression. "When you force something...it loses it's meaning and sincerity. I won't be dishonest with you, or force you to do anything either." Huffing a soft sigh, he pushed himself up from the couch, looking towards his room ( their room, though now he's not sure what to do ), then the kitchen.

"Are you hungry? Um...either of you, I suppose?" he interrupted his own train of thought, unsure if the separate facets of Aoba worked like people with dissociative disorders, where different personalities might claim different needs and wants. If this was the personification of Aoba's desires, though, it made sense to Declan to ask if he wanted something. Then again, he might be oversimplifying it for himself.