Even she hated herself-- while that would have been a proper warning to most people, for Andy it was simply a revelation of how lonely she really was. Intriguing certainly wasn't the word he would use to describe that sort of worry he had for her, but he still felt the need to stick around nonetheless. What if he walked out and she overdosed next week? Most people might not have seen that as their problem, but he was the type of guy who couldn't take that in stride. Even if she hated him for it.
"I don't hate anyone," Andy said with a quick nod, which was certainly true. He could dislike a person, certainly, but the way he thought of someone was always subject to change. She seemed pretty set in the fact that he eventually would, though, so he mostly let it go. He blinked, however, as she told him what people normally said, and perhaps for the first time what she meant by "put out" settled in completely. She'd been serious, hadn't she? Which just brought a million other things to question-- did he seem like he wanted her to put out? Had that interaction gone that way? And just the terminology of it all inferred that she didn't necessarily want to do it at all. So why did she feel she had that obligation?
Jesus. He was in way over his head. Why he was here he still couldn't quite explain, as she had a point-- it wasn't as if she'd given him much to go by other than a strangely bitchy attitude and a pretty face. So being here was perhaps a bit shallower than he'd originally thought. Still, he chose to dismiss the thought in favor of her next words. "I know," he admitted, brow furrowing; he just didn't fit in here. "But I'm fine. And I want to make sure you're okay."