Send me “❤” if your muse has a crush on mine
“I don’t understand.”
She shakes her head, helplessly. She hadn’t meant him to know. She doesn’t even know /why/. Maybe it’s because of how kind he is, under that gruff exterior, or simply because he’d rescued her.
“I’m not the type of guy that people have crushes on,” he said simply, turning his back to put the dishes away. “It’s not something I’m used to.”
She brings him the rest of the dishes, perforce silently. It sounds like he doesn’t believe her, and she doesn’t know what to do about that. She stops, to watch him, the way he moves, listening to the way he feels about himself. It hurts. It’s like he thinks he doesn’t deserve to be cared about.
When he’s finished with the dishes, she slips up beside him and gives him a hug.
