"You don't want to cause trouble, I d- don't want to cause trouble, so we're all just f-f-fine here, now aren't we?" His entire body trembles as he pushes his glasses to his forehead and presses his palm against his eye, the ink dripping from it burning. His hand is there for only a moment before he pulls it back to his mouth again, coughing into it painfully -- his glasses tumble from his forehead as he steps back again, trying to put distance between them.

"All right, I'm" —he wheezes a moment, trying to catch his breath— "I'm not fine fine, but this is but momentary d-d-discomfort that will pass much sooner if I'm left alone, so you are welcome to take your leave of my g- garden and..."

He trails off as he reaches to his hairline and finds his glasses are absent. Panic floods him faster than the ink ever could, his eyes darting to the ground, but given his absolutely dreadful eyesight and the fact that one eye is nearly useless at the moment, he struggles to find his spectacles.