I frown at first, when he rushes to me, like a wounded child. But I can't deny that it hurts, and I will have to push my pride aside and let him help me, or risk further damage to himself.

So I sigh heavily, and let him move my hand away from my buttons, and examine my arm.

"I just twisted it funny," I supply, looking down at the floor, doing my damnedest not to scuff one boot across the floorboards, like a petulant child.