Tony might not shake out if the grasp, he’s too hedonistically attached to Loki’s touch, but that doesn’t stop him from being angry. Perhaps it’s not obvious, but that anger is directed only at himself and not Loki. He hisses out: “Sorry for what? I know you didn’t plan this. If you had your way, we’d be decimated and that guy you’re afraid of would be on his way to snuff out half of the universe. Oh. And I know you didn’t want this to happen. No-no-no,” he fires, not mocking Loki at all since he doesn’t try to mimic his tone or voice. “That was you. But it’s happened. Things happen. Life happens. I’m just angry at myself for trying to figure out how not to care about what I’m doing to her. I don’t think I have a choice in this. The universe or the Norns or whoever else that I don’t believe in exist by the way but still somehow did this, took away my choice. You. Are. It. For me.”

The bond drums a soothing beat through his head but does nothing to really calm Tony down.

“You’re stuck with me. I halved your life. I’m not someone your family and Asgard want for you. And you— Let’s not sugar coat it. You are public enemy number one and no one is going to understand this for me either. So... that makes us perfect for each other. I guess. So don’t be sorry, got it? I’m not sorry. I don’t want you to be sorry.”