He doesn't know how to react to that first observation and his face echoes that. Maybe because nothing good has come of wanting things for himself, or he's gotten used to taking care of people.

Or that he just doesn't want to see a good hunk of a crew fall again.

He's got this handful of thoughts slipping between his fingers when the conversation changes and it's gone from what he's doing to how he's doing. He'd told Rocket once that he had a hole inside him, that they both did, and that even a little bit of love reminded him of how big it was.

"I feel a little bit emptier, but I ain't good with words so I cain't put a good name to it. But I wasn't the only one to have people go." He redirects, because how he feels shouldn't matter.