"I’m thoughtful," he continues, undeterred. "I mean, look at me. Carrying you. Keeping you warm. Sacrificing my personal space so you don’t fall off this horse and die. Heroic, really."
"Heroic." I repeat flatly.
"Exactly."
I sigh. "You forgot humble."
"Ah, yes." He nods. "Humble. Painfully humble. Tragically so, even. A true burden I must bear."
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head against his shoulder. "I can’t believe you’ve thought about this."
"Luna." He leans in slightly, voice dropping to something conspiratorial. "I’ve memorized this."
"Of course you have."
"It’s important to know your worth."
I sigh, letting my eyes drift shut for a moment. "Please tell me you’re done."
He tilts his head, considering. "I haven’t even gotten to my best qualities."
"Elias."
"Like my loyalty."
That makes me pause.
Because despite the absolute mess that is Elias, even though he just compared himself to a dangerously attractive poet-scoundrel hybrid, he’s right about that one.
He might joke. Might deflect. Might make everything seem like it doesn’t matter.
But when it does, when it matters, Elias stays.
And that’s not something I can ignore.
He must sense the shift in my silence, because instead of filling it, he just… breathes.
His fingers tighten slightly where he holds me upright, not teasing for once, not trying to ruin the moment.
I exhale slowly, my body relaxing deeper against him, feeling the way his does the same.
And for once, he doesn’t ruin it.
"Also," he says suddenly, "my hair is fantastic." And now he hasn’t shut up about his “fantastic” hair.
I didn’t even mean to start this conversation. I made one tiny mistake, and now I’m trapped.
"So," I murmur, still pressed against him, my voice thick with exhaustion, "why is your hair gray?"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
For once in his loud, obnoxious, never-ending existence, Elias doesn’t have something to say.
I blink up at him, my cheek still resting against his shoulder, and realize he looks... offended.
Genuinely.