[ Grantaire rolls his eyes, actually leaning and craning his neck back as if to look up to the heavens for guidance. Or perhaps to get away from the judgmental gaze of the asshole before him. ]

I understand why you don't want to leave. That's entirely different from not being able to. I want you to think about the difference between your disappearance for a few months-- and your re-emergence later when this threat has at least passed or been dealt with-- and your final, unyielding, unavoidable death. The loss of your voice for your causes forever.

[ He looks back at his would-be target and sighs, flexing his hands as his eyes sweep across the alley again. ]

The reason that my fucking paycheck exists is because there is a difference.