He turns his head, nose brushing her forehead. "We all got our scars, Lyds. We all got a past. I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you'd bring it up, but the past doesn't matter. Mine doesn't, anyway, so why should yours?"

He runs his hand up and down her arm, trying to warm her skin. She's so tiny and she's so cold and she looks so fragile now in a way she really never does to him, even when she's sleeping. She's so strong. At least, he thinks so.

He's not used to her being so vulnerable. If she needs him, though, he's here. He'll keep her safe until she feels strong again and then she can keep him safe. That's how they work, right? He wants it to be how they work, anyway.