He looked so beaten that it scared her. All this time, she had never seen him look this way. Nothing like this had ever happened. Oh, she had seen death and destruction on the battlefield. Had seen first hand her own people suffer but she had never cared (except once and that had been the catalyst to her leaving and look how that had ended).
“I’ll do that but you’re wrong if you think this isn’t my fight. I don’t want them to hurt you. To kill you. I lost someone that I realize now I loved and I won’t have that happen again. Besides, if they kill you, do you really think they’ll stop? I won’t be safe then, either,” she said, ending with a heavy sigh. For the second time he had prompted her to speak more than she was used to. A worn-out look crossed her face but she touched his arm anyway.
The bag of chips was discarded on the side, and however tempted he was to eat the peanut butter, he would wait until she went hunting for information. He staved it off this long, he could stave it off some more.
He was quiet for some time, unsure of what to say. Not like any ideas were popping into his head with how tired he felt. “What should we do then, hm?” The press of her hand against his palm had him gazing back at her, eyes soft with affection yet glazed over.
