I -- never said you were. You did just stick your hand in a fire. [matter-of-fact, wrapping an arm around his knees, settling in. until she tells him to fuck off, he'll push his luck, see if he can -- help, somehow. people didn't throw diamond rings into the fire unless they meant something, something painful. also, the way she hisses, snarls, sneers is -- familiar, like nami, nearly. it's oddly reassuring, in a way that has koby smiling a little to himself as he takes the now-ringless stick and starts to pick at the bark on it.]

I don't want a reward. I really just didn't want you to get hurt. [a pause, his eyes flicking down to her hands, skipping over the ring clutched tightly in them, landing instead on the tiny, sparkling butterfly charm on her middle finger.] Or mess up your nails. They're really nice.

[it's earnest, sweet, the sort of whole-hearted, impossible-to-mistake warmth that koby still manages to hold onto, the part of him that still believes in helping people, in protecting them, in being as good as he possibly can. true, she may still mistrust it -- you had to be careful, to keep yourself safe. he doesn't hold it against her, won't even if she lashes out at him.] They must have taken a while. There somehow isn't a nail salon here, yet, so it'd be hard to get them that perfect again, if you, um. Caught them on fire.