Page 121 of Fighting Spirit

“How’s your back?” I murmur.

“All fixed up.”

“You know.” I decide to try my luck. “It’s okay to ask for help when you need it.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? You do so much for me, but when I try and give something back, it’s like pulling teeth.”

“I like doing things for you.”

“That’s not the point,” I huff, turning in his arms to face him, our noses almost touching. “Sometimes it’s like maybe you think I won’t want you if you aren’t helping me with stuff, or giving me things, or fixing my problems. I just want you to know that’s not true. I’m crazy about you, Ro. I don’t need you to work for it.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. I let him be, let him work through whatever’s going on in that head of his.

Eventually he speaks, pulling in a gulp of air like he’s gearing up for a cage match. “I guess it’s hard sometimes. I like helping people, I really do. But I end up in these spirals where I feel like it’s all I have to offer.”

“That’s not true.”

“I know that rationally, but I get in this place where…” He pauses, like the words are paining him. “It kinda feels like I’m not worth that much to people if I can’t do shit for them.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but his words slice through me like a knife.

“Rowan.” I can’t help the way my voice comes out watery.

“Sorry, I’m being dumb.” He tucks my head under his chin.

“No, you’re not, your feelings are never dumb.”

“I don’t always think like this. I just get in my head.”

I push back on his chest a little, not letting him hide from me. “Okay, think of it this way.” He raises an eyebrow. “You say you like doing stuff for me? It makes you feel good?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, why would you assume I don’t feel the same way? When you need help and you don’t ask for it, you’re denying me the opportunity to do something that’s gonna make me feel good.”

He mulls it over. “You’re saying I’d be doing you a favor by asking you for shit.”

“Exactly.”

“Huh.” He frowns, rolling onto his back. I go with him, propping my chin up on his chest. “Did you just mind-game me out of my anxiety?”

I grin. “Looks like it.”

“You’re a menace, Walcott.”

“You should be glad I’m so into you. Imagine what I could do if I were using my powers for evil.”

“Fuck,” he chuckles, “you’d burn the world down.”

“Probably.”

“For the record, I’m glad every day that you’re into me.”

I know I’m smiling like a fool, but I don’t care one bit. “You are?”

“Hell yeah. And for what it’s worth, you make it easier to ask for things that just about anybody else.”

The tips of his ears turn pink, his expression sheepish.

---