"Okay. I'm taking your word on that." That she wouldn't, you know, end up dead very soon and then he'd end up blaming himself for not doing something or not insisting she get medical attention. "I've got enough weighing on my conscience right now." It might have been an attempt to lighten the mood, but it was gentle, too, and definitely not accusatory.
He offered his arm out a bit, so it'd be easier for her to hold on. He didn't blame her for not wanting to lean on him; he was well aware of how vulnerable it could feel to let someone see how not okay you actually were. He was also aware, up close now, of how suspicious the bite marks on her skin looked. Well...he had heard something about vampires at some point or another since he'd shown up in the cave, so maybe his wild theories weren't really that wild.
Oh. He couldn't remember the last time--if ever--someone had thanked him so sincerely, and he had to look away for a moment lest he let on how it made him feel. It was almost uncomfortable, but only because he wasn't used to this sort of gratitude. He wasn't the sort of person people usually thanked. Usually, people graced him with a fuck you tossed his way, or a raised middle finger, or an actual punch. Sometimes, it made him wonder if he was even capable of doing something genuinely good.
Swallowing, he looked at her again, shrugging off the thanks like this was nothing. "It's Kavinsky," he said. "'K' works, too." Anything but his first name, if only because the one nickname he'd accept for it hadn't even crossed his mind yet. "This is- it's the least I could do."
no subject
He offered his arm out a bit, so it'd be easier for her to hold on. He didn't blame her for not wanting to lean on him; he was well aware of how vulnerable it could feel to let someone see how not okay you actually were. He was also aware, up close now, of how suspicious the bite marks on her skin looked. Well...he had heard something about vampires at some point or another since he'd shown up in the cave, so maybe his wild theories weren't really that wild.
Oh. He couldn't remember the last time--if ever--someone had thanked him so sincerely, and he had to look away for a moment lest he let on how it made him feel. It was almost uncomfortable, but only because he wasn't used to this sort of gratitude. He wasn't the sort of person people usually thanked. Usually, people graced him with a fuck you tossed his way, or a raised middle finger, or an actual punch. Sometimes, it made him wonder if he was even capable of doing something genuinely good.
Swallowing, he looked at her again, shrugging off the thanks like this was nothing. "It's Kavinsky," he said. "'K' works, too." Anything but his first name, if only because the one nickname he'd accept for it hadn't even crossed his mind yet. "This is- it's the least I could do."