"No," he eventually murmurs, near Ren's ear with his face still buried. "I'll, uh. I'll keep it. Unless it turns to dust."

He feels like he's been beaten. As if someone picked up that overweight 90s television and slammed it right into his solar plexus. He feels like his body is outside his skin, like he has an exoskeleton, and nothing more besides.

"She's—she's not like that," he tries, hating the bleating sound in his voice. "She's really not like that."