At her curtly response to "not being cute," Saith frowned. How was she not cute? Her adorable little wiggles all night long were distracting. Granted, no part of her looks were "cute." No, cute was for her actions. Beauty? Why, only that could describe her looks. She was neither pretty or hot. She was, simply put, beautifully gorgeous. The way she held herself and the way she wore her clothes were far from seductive. Still, her proportions were perfect. Her hair was hardly ever flawed (seriously, how did she not get knots in it?!). And those blue eyes of hers were always alive, kind, and welcoming. Her skin was soft like warm butter and her voice was like that of a thousand whispering angels. She truly was a beautiful elf in the most lackluster way possible. Mae wasn't weighed down by gaudy things like jewels and gems. She was a simpler gal, a kind whose beauty didn't need to be hidden by riches and gold.

Blinking at her tone now, Saith began to wish he hadn't said a thing. He knew when someone was trying to be professional and, quite frankly, this was hardly the time. Had she not just spent a few hours listening to his heart beat? Had she not graced his lips with a light brush of her own? And what about the night before where they shared a tender topic below the moonlit sky?

Taken aback by her lack of compassion and understanding, Saith turned his head away and let his ears fall deaf to her words. Yes, he listened but they were just hallow tunes she spoke. Just more riddles and walls to keep herself distanced from him.

Had he been elven or royal, would she resist as much? Had his skin been white instead of black, would she have let his words reach her heart instead of her position in life?

Frustrated and hurt, Saith hardly uttered another word. If she wanted nothing to do with him, she needed to stop toying with him. Perhaps he ought to say something? Would that be too brass? Too harsh?

No, maybe she needed to know. To know that, like her, his heart was on the line. If she couldn't give him an ounce of love, then why should he bother? Yes, of course he would remain a loyal guide and warrior. But would he try to win her heart over? Would he try to swoon her? Court her? Lover her?

No.

And in that breaking, fleeting, fragile moment, Saith exhaled a sad sigh. This was his reality. This was how it was always going to be. There was no him. There was no her. There would never be a "them."

"Your choices must always take needs of your people before you own," he quoted her word-for-word. Looking up at her with dull eyes, he retorted, "You need not my permission to save someone."

Circling around, he took a seat beside Kevlar. "I'll get him to eat." With that, he kept his lips drawn tight and made quick work of the leftover food from yesterday. He looked not once up at Mae and refused to utter another word to her. The sting of her politically correct words still burned his flesh too much and they would likely weigh him down for the next few days. Yes, he was used to rejection. But he was not used to passive aggressive, cowardly rejection.