Her eyes are almost instantly filled with tears because she knows what that means to him. "Then– you saved me. You were protecting me... you're not in the wrong for that. " Her voice wavers in a way a Whitly's never should, but she doesn't care.

She reaches up and frames her hands around his face, pressing her forehead against his head. "It doesn't make you like him, okay? It doesn't." Her voice comes as a whisper, and it sounds so, so small. The tears finally spill across her cheeks, and she isn't sure if they're for her, or for him. Maybe both.