Gansey couldn't begin to fathom why Laurent's face was the reason he was hunted. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it. Even if there were, would that really matter? Laurent... he was a lover of books. He'd been kind when Gansey fell into his lair. He made soup. His face didn't matter.

But he was covering it, and not looking at Gansey. He needs me. The thought struck Gansey then, and a recklessness overcame the fear of doing something stupid yet again. Even if the man got mad at him—Gansey couldn't leave him alone. He was suffering.

So, with a deep breath, Gansey took long, purposeful strides toward Laurent. Reaching out still but this time wrapping his arms tight, pulling Laurent gently against his chest.

"It's okay," he said, trying to keep his voice low and soothing. "I'll stay."