"I Didn't Like It. Not seeing you. It makes me aNxIoUs, too." I blushed to be saying this out loud.
He was quiet. I glanced up, apprehensive, and saw that his expression felt pain.
"Ah," he groaned quietly. "This is wrong."
I couldn't understand his response. "What you say?"
"Don't you see, Bella? It's one thing for me to make myself miserable, make an ugly old hobbit210 out of myself, but a wholly other thing for you to be so... involved." He waved his hand dismissively at the word, turning his anguished eyes to the road and the words flowing almost too fast for me to understand. "I don't want to hear that you feel that way." His voice was low but urgent. His words cut me. "It's wrong. It's not right. I'm dangerous, Bella—please grasp that shit."
"No." I tried very hard not to look like a sulky child.
"I'm serious," he growled.
"So am I. I told you, it doesn't matter what you are. It's too late."
His voice whipped it out, low and harsh. "Never say that... !"
I bit my lip and was glad he couldn't know how much that hurt. I stared out at the road. We must be c-c-c-close now. He was driving much too fast.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, his voice still raw. I just shook my head, not sure if I could speak. I could feel his gaze groping my face, but I kept my eyes forward.
"Are you crying?" He sounded appalled. I hadn't realized the moisture in my eyes had brimmed over and turned into tears. I quickly rubbed my hand across my cheek, and sure enough, traitor tears were there, traitoring me.
"No," I said, but my voice cracked like an egg, letting all the yolk out.
210. Aside from their hairy feet, hobbits are actually fairly attractive well into their old age.