Lazarus really doesn't get angry or lash out; it isn't that he doesn't feel emotions, just that they run deeper and he's more reserved about showing them. But this is different; it's like they echo in a hollow place in his chest when Misa admits that she's echoed back a feeling that goes beyond sheer emotion, it's unhealthy. It's obsession.

The kind of person who would literally kill and die for another.

Even if she's struggling not to look at the specter, Lazarus is staring straight at him, wondering about the kind of person who can make someone feel those things.

She's trying. He can set aside what he feels about it for now, or at least attempt to. "OK," he says simply, nodding briskly and pulling her along toward his cabin, stepping at a quicker clip than his normal gait.