There's something about the immediate avoidance that rankles him even more. Like Angel expects him to do more than just argue with him. Placing himself out of reach so that he can't be hurt.

Well, Angel doesn't know him. He doesn't know what kind of person Dennis was, or is. Dennis isn't a fighter, he never has been, and Angel has no way of knowing that.

"Yeah, run away," Dennis mutters, a sulky little jab before he lets himself slump against the back of the bench, his hands limp and his head back. He might actually fall asleep here, if he's left alone in the quiet long enough.