"..." Why was he feeling judged here? Was hauling heavy rocks not supposed to have caused his muscle to fatigue? Was he supposed to be better than that somehow? What did Inigo believe he was? Some tireless individual that could go on forever without pause? Perhaps... Given how energetic Inigo sounded, maybe he really was wrong to feel as tired as he was. Gerome wasn't sure how to reply in a way that wasn't to tell Inigo to jump into the nearest pit or to force himself to get back up and return to work to prove he wasn't tired. Which he was. But he was beginning to feel like Inigo was deliberately poking at his pride to get some kind of reaction.

What he did instead was to roll himself on his side and face away from Inigo.

"I don't care about this world, Inigo... This is not my world." He was just doing what was expected of him. Was that not enough? He was still uncertain of his role here after all. He had worked until he'd worn little holes in his gloves and scraped up his hands. He didn't know how more he could have done to please the other man.