[Being helped up feels more like being bodily placed upright, though Jack doesn't exactly know how much of that is the man's strength and how much of that is the swimmy feeling of being moderately concussed. But he catches the conversation between the two, and begins to have the sinking feeling that there's something there. Something inhuman, sharp-edged and savage in a way he can't possibly hope to compete with.
Something that makes his heart ache.
He still can't help smiling when Grell steps up to dust him off, but there's a faint wistfulness to the expression, and his nod is less exuberant than before. All the same, he returns the handshake, the picture of lingeringly off-balance manners. The lady deserves the best, Holden. Be the bigger man. At least, the . . . figurative bigger man.]
Ah, no harm done. [Almost certainly a lie, but they're in front of Grell. Can't be looking weak and squishy.] One of those chivalric marks of character, isn't it? Protecting a fair lady's honour?
no subject
Something that makes his heart ache.
He still can't help smiling when Grell steps up to dust him off, but there's a faint wistfulness to the expression, and his nod is less exuberant than before. All the same, he returns the handshake, the picture of lingeringly off-balance manners. The lady deserves the best, Holden. Be the bigger man. At least, the . . . figurative bigger man.]
Ah, no harm done. [Almost certainly a lie, but they're in front of Grell. Can't be looking weak and squishy.] One of those chivalric marks of character, isn't it? Protecting a fair lady's honour?