#malia please

                  “Why are you being so nice to me?”        It sounds like an accusation, but she really wants to know.

“𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴  𝘢  𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥  𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨  𝘵𝘰  𝘴𝘢𝘺.”              The  response  is  blurted  out  before  she  has  a  chance  to  think  about  it.  Of  course  she  can!  Does  he  not  realise  how  strong  she  can  be  if  she  truly  focuses  her  energy?  Arms  fold  across  her  chest,  a  clear  defiance  to  the  mere  idea  in  the  way  she  presents  herself.  In  all  honesty,  it   hurts  her  feelings  slightly.  She  cares  about  him,  an  innate  need  to  protect  him  that  only  grows  stronger  the  more  time  they  spend  together.   Maybe  he  doesn’t   understand  that,  maybe   she  hasn’t  made  it  clear  enough.   She  scowls.          “I’m  very  capable  of  keeping  you  safe.”  

𝘛𝘩𝘦  𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯  𝘩𝘢𝘴  𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯  𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧  𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭  𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦  𝘢𝘯𝘥  𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦  𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.    Her  help  often  came  with  a  price,  one  not  always  so  obvious  to  begin  with.  At  her  own  discretion,  Malia  has  learned  to  how  to  weigh  up  the  potential  risk  with  the  immediate  reward.  Although  the  heavy  words  seemingly  presage  danger,  Malia  can  only  scoff.  Reaching  out  to  draw  her  mug  of  tea  toward  her,  she  wraps  her  palms  flat  to  the  ceramic  to  warm  herself  up.  A  chill  has  suddenly  struck  through  her.  She  can  not  decided  whether  to  pin  it  on  her  usual  lower-than-average  body  temperature  or  the  weight  behind  Emma’s  words.  The  coyote  maintains  eye  contact.            “Tell  me  something  I  don’t  know.  Just  ---  get  me  the  information,  I  don’t  need  to  know  the  details.”