Illya’s approach to a conversation he doesn’t want to have is to either walk away from it as soon as he’s able to, to punch them so they will shut up, or to stay quiet and glare at them until they get the message. He can’t leave, he tried punching and it didn’t solve much… and he’s aware that glaring won’t help when the poison is running through both of their systems. So he’s out of ideas here.

She asks a direct question, and of course he can’t give her the answer he really wants to give. He hasn’t quite accepted what she’s telling him, not really, not yet. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have an inkling that she’s completely right, specially deep down inside him. It takes him a few minutes to reply, he’s biting his inner cheek so hard he can taste blood in an attempt to keep himself from answering. But in the end...

“I can’t. I... can’t tell you you’re wrong.” Through gritted teeth, but he does let it out at least. But he isn’t a dummy, and he can tell she’s going to pounce on that if he lets her. So he changes tactics.

“What did Clint do for you?”