crushing

She was kind and that made it all the more difficult for him to accept her help. To accept her charity was to admit to his failings as a man. And yet here he was doing just that. Pyrrhic was a poor specimen indeed. The thought caused his heart to sink to a new low. And yet...he welcomed her attention. Reluctant as he may have been, Pyrrhic had to admit it felt nice to have someone take the time to ask him how he was doing.

He swallowed in an attempt to rid his mouth of the metallic taste of blood, but once cleaned the small wound quickly overflowed again and he was right back where he started. Despite this he smiled as she went along with his joke and quickly quipped back.

Pyrrhic's smile faltered, though, at the rest of what she had to say. She knew. How did she know? Was he so transparent that a mortal woman could figure him out in seconds? He thought for a second he was reading too much into her words, but no, he wasn't, was he. His gaze slid to the ground as he struggled to find a worthy reply. "And what do we do," he ventured tentatively, "When it isn't marigold we need and it isn't a tongue that needs fixing?"