His eyes were alert on her, solemn as if he truly did understand. The tone and that look pulled her eyes to his, instructed her to listen. So she did. It did nothing to cool her cheeks, indeed, she found that something in her chest almost did a leap of surprise as he mentioned gaining her esteem. He thought he needed to gain her esteem? He had saved her life at least three times in the course of one evening, he had been nothing but a gentleman, and he thought he hadn't gained her esteem? Her eyes closed in an owl like blink before focusing on him again - on the praise. She went entirely warm at those words and found she could no longer hold his gaze, dropping it down to his hands and then braving a shy glance up to see... pain.
Malou swallowed, surprised by that, her mind sorting through every word her godmother had ever mentioned about the eldest Mr. Prewett and realizing with a small start where that look had come from. His wife. She didn't know much other than she had passed but she could guess that he loved his wife. Based on how many times she had seen that look at loved ones in the hospital, and then again Saturday night, she could hardly think otherwise. And if she had doubted it then Mr. Prewett's next words would have erased it.
"It doesn't make it any easier." Malou admitted, looking down at her hands. She could still hear Mrs. Bagshot's animated tones and Mr. Bagshot's answering rumble behind her. Perhaps it was the fact they could not hear, or perhaps it was because it was odd to find someone to confide in, who might understand. Whatever the reason, Malou found herself turning over the words before she laid them before Mr. Prewett. "I went into healing to make sure no one else ever felt that pain again." Her normally quiet voice had gotten quieter, her gaze on her gloves in her lap, she bit the inside of her lip in hesitation before she tried to finish her thought, "Every patient I lose...." Malou swallowed, braved his gaze again, there was unguarded pain on her face this time. "Feels like I failed." It was the raw truth, one not meant for parlors or social calls. One that she kept hidden even from Fallon. If Fallon even suspected how tied up Malou's grief was in healing well... Malou did not wish to make her friend worry like that.
![[Image: MrLhLvF.png]](https://i.imgur.com/MrLhLvF.png)
Malou swallowed, surprised by that, her mind sorting through every word her godmother had ever mentioned about the eldest Mr. Prewett and realizing with a small start where that look had come from. His wife. She didn't know much other than she had passed but she could guess that he loved his wife. Based on how many times she had seen that look at loved ones in the hospital, and then again Saturday night, she could hardly think otherwise. And if she had doubted it then Mr. Prewett's next words would have erased it.
"It doesn't make it any easier." Malou admitted, looking down at her hands. She could still hear Mrs. Bagshot's animated tones and Mr. Bagshot's answering rumble behind her. Perhaps it was the fact they could not hear, or perhaps it was because it was odd to find someone to confide in, who might understand. Whatever the reason, Malou found herself turning over the words before she laid them before Mr. Prewett. "I went into healing to make sure no one else ever felt that pain again." Her normally quiet voice had gotten quieter, her gaze on her gloves in her lap, she bit the inside of her lip in hesitation before she tried to finish her thought, "Every patient I lose...." Malou swallowed, braved his gaze again, there was unguarded pain on her face this time. "Feels like I failed." It was the raw truth, one not meant for parlors or social calls. One that she kept hidden even from Fallon. If Fallon even suspected how tied up Malou's grief was in healing well... Malou did not wish to make her friend worry like that.