"Good," he murmured, his voice a little hoarse, a little weary. He sounded exhausted, like a child up way past his bedtime, and he sullenly nuzzled against the curve of her shoulder, let her pet him like he was a housecat.
"I won't let anyone hurt you," Charlie whispered, because that was all of the retaliation he could offer in the face of her kindness. "You're mine." And it was sort of sweet, in a way--- Beauty and the Beast personified, though not quite what Disney imagined.