i don’t need you to protect me .
He looks at her and, God -- She's the same kid as he remembers her. Age dresses her up with military decorum and muscles and height, but little, determined Fareeha, standing tall and undeterred, shines so damn brightly through it all that she might as well be a beacon. In this mirage of a memory, he is seventeen again and rolling his eyes just above a shit-eating grin and his mouth props open with some stupid shit locked-and-loaded and ready to tumble out.
Cole blinks rapidly. He tugs at the brim of his hat, eyes moving downward as he spins out Peacekeeper's cylinder. He slips in the rounds diligently, one-by-one. Soft clicks syncopate the quiet between them.
"Maybe not anymore," He admits more quietly than he intends. He breathes in, finding strength in bull-headed determination, "But it's tough shit, Fareeha." His eyes dart back up to hers. "Long as you got me 'round, I ain't ever goin' to stop watchin' your back."
