[He tenses up slightly at the implication that his persona here is something he's "doing," an act. But no, surely it's not that transparent. He breathes deep and settles himself before adding the vegetables to the wok.]

When you say stuff like that it sounds like yer coming onto me.
[Which... he truly hopes isn't the case. Anyway.]

... It's my heart. Or something taking the place of it, anyway.