Luke looked at her. So close. She had freckles. Had he known that? Why did it matter? And maybe it was his imagination, or maybe it was something about the link they'd shared, but he could swear he smelled sun and sand--the fresh, clean scent of the desert.
He shook his head, as much to clear it as to negate her words.
"They don't need me for that. I'm not what they're fighting for, nor should I be." He disengaged his hand from hers, and placed it on her shoulder. "There are other men--and women. I'm not the man you need. They need to fight for themselves, for what's good and right. Not for me, or some fantasy out of a legend."
He heaved a sigh, dropping his hand. He suddenly felt tired, as if he'd fought some sort of battle. He looked away, out over the ocean.
"You mentioned... doing something."
The turn the conversation had taken was not one he welcomed, and it was either change it, or end this. And she had already voiced her objection to being left alone. Well, she'd have to compromise.
no subject
He shook his head, as much to clear it as to negate her words.
"They don't need me for that. I'm not what they're fighting for, nor should I be." He disengaged his hand from hers, and placed it on her shoulder. "There are other men--and women. I'm not the man you need. They need to fight for themselves, for what's good and right. Not for me, or some fantasy out of a legend."
He heaved a sigh, dropping his hand. He suddenly felt tired, as if he'd fought some sort of battle. He looked away, out over the ocean.
"You mentioned... doing something."
The turn the conversation had taken was not one he welcomed, and it was either change it, or end this. And she had already voiced her objection to being left alone. Well, she'd have to compromise.