Summer turned her head, trying to hide behind wisps of hair. Her mouth opened and closed, at a loss for what to say. “I thought, now, since you accepted my ring, since you asked me … but I’ll just … ” His arms were still around her, and she couldn’t bring herself to pull away any farther.
It had been a game, just an amusement, and now it wasn’t one at all, and she didn’t know what to do.
”Summer I-” He stopped, allowing his arms to fall from around her, seeing that she wanted to leave. “I don’t know how to open up to anyone,” he adds. “I never have, because I’ve never had a reason to. The hatred harboured for people like me- if I wasn’t to be exploited I had to learn to hide myself. Something, a pattern that I can’t so easily fall out of now.” Mordred tells her, “it has nothing to do with you.”
His arms fell away, but something he’d said caught her attention. “People like you? Mordred, knights aren’t hated … “