book 5: wounds

At least she pauses when he coughs. The pain still ebbs and flows through him. It hurts. He hates it. Almost too distracted to notice the word she begins to say. His ears perk, chin tilting slightly as he peers at her. A look of huh on his face. Then it hits him. Because of me. Gil wants to say no, but he can't because that would be lying. He's not a liar. Looking away, taking a swig, eyes holding onto the licking flames, he braces for retaliation. "You betcha," he responds, tone grim without any charm or humor.