She leaned her head into his hand, his rough skin at odds with the gentleness in the gesture. Moving closer, she lifted her eyes to his, smiling sadly. "Can't teach an old dog new tricks," Meg echoed his earlier words softly, hands resting on the broad expanse of his marked chest. Her eyes filled up with tears then, the smile breaking as she lowered her head to his chest and wept quietly, narrow shoulders heaving with the wasted effort of keeping her sobs contained.

"W-Why...?" she managed to whisper, but the rest of the question was too much to voice. Why couldn't she just stay away from him? Why did he always pull her in with his crooked, self-satisfied smirk and his strength and his secrets? Every defense she'd spent so long building up was crumbling down in that kitchen as she trembled against him. She was pathetic for trusting him, selfish for pulling him into her half life, stupid for believing in anything good.

And she was definitely falling for him.