You aren't. I'm bad luck. An ill omen. And I'm cursed. Damned. Just the Devil's plaything, not any sort of challenge that'll benefit you at all. I'm only going to drag you down.

( yada yada yada, he could go on and on about what a horrible awful piece of shit he is forever if you let him. at least that hasn't changed much, either. thing is, he stops on his own. or rather, he ignores himself. or whatever you want to call how he sounds like what he intends to do is push her away, but all he actually does is pull her in. hang on tighter. not too tight, he hopes, but for a moment he forgets about being careful, minding his horrible monstrous additions, sparing her the burden of him... all that shit.

he just hangs on like his life depends on it, shaking all over the tighter his arms squeeze around her shoulders, bowing his whole body down toward her. he's quite a bit too tall to put his face in her hair, but it has the alternative effect of essentially enveloping her entirely. like he could shield her from everything even now, whether there's danger around them or not, with or without the power to heal from any blow he might take. better still when his wings, of their own accord, flutter behind him and then stretch to enfold her in a cocoon of black feathers. )

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you. ...But I'm not sorry, either. I had to. And I'd do it again. I'd do anything to keep you safe.