He was quiet, which struck me as unusual in itself. Typically, even when he performed mundane tasks, he would mumble to himself or hum a tune under his breath, maybe even ramble to me about his latest interest, but he said nothing. I wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t unnerve me, but I didn’t know what to do other than give him space and hope he would open up if something troubled him.

In his own time.

“Fuck,” he cursed, snatching up the sock he’d dropped on the floor before shoving his foot into the hole. He caught me glancing over, and he smiled, but the sweat beading at his brow and his slightly elevated heart rate belied the gesture.

“Are you⁠—”

“I’m fine,” he chirped, cutting me off as he whirled around to grab his shirt. He fumbled with the hem, jaw clenching in frustration when it wouldn’t part on the first try. He firmly shook out the fabric, his breath releasing sharply from his nose, and that was when I noticed his balance was off.

He was falling.

I was already advancing toward him with my arm outstretched when he stumbled forward with a gasp, his shirt dropping to the floor. He managed to right himself before toppling completely, though I still reached out instinctively to offer support. “Luc⁠—”

He swerved violently away from my touch.

“I said I’m fine!” he snapped, batting at the empty space between my hand and his shoulder, irritation rolling off him in waves. It lasted barely a second before he flinched, blinking as if recovering from a trance. His eyes darted to mine, glazed with regret. “Cair, I-I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know where that came from.” He placed a hand against the side of his head, rubbing lightly. “I’m just tired, but I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” I shushed him gently, gravitating closer but staying aware of his personal space. If he felt overwhelmed or cornered, the last thing I wanted was to make it worse. “Tell me what’s going on in your head, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, his bottom lip wobbling. “Everything and nothing. My skin just felt too tight and it was like I was lost in a crowd, so I panicked. I didn’t mean to.” He closed the gap between us, plastering himself to my chest, his arms circling my waist. I hugged him immediately. “Please don’t stop fussing over me,” he mumbled. “I don’t know why that happened, but it really wasn’t me. I love that you fuss.”

I stroked the back of his head, awed that instead of caring for his own feelings, he was worried that he’d offended me. It was far from the case. I was concerned. Perhaps it was too early to resume our journey, or to keep going at all. I should have recognized sooner that he needed more rest. His sleep had been broken by whatever thoughts plagued him, and he’d barely eaten enough to build up the energy he’d lost in the ambush. The poor creature was running on empty, and I hadn’t done a damn thing about it.