Don't-- stop talking about yourself that way, you're not nearly old enough for it to be expected.

[his hands shift, one moving from the lapel of thancred's coat to rest over his heart-- but then when he speaks again, ryn's fingers twitch, like he's about to reflexively pull his hand away. like hearing that stings him, somehow, an unexpected little jolt.

he leaves it where it is.]

You're alive enough here. You don't need me for that.