Achilles didn't wish to be coddled or sworn into someone's arms for pity. It was a difficult thing letting anyone in (now more than ever). Letting someone get close was dangerous. But he looked back at Penthesilea, not wanting her to end the pain, but to just accept it. This was a part of him that had been with him since his very beginning of life. His name alone meant grief. And while it was hard to ask someone to be there with him, she was almost like a comrade as much as she was a woman.
His eyes felt pricked with emotion, they glazed over with wetness as he shook his head. There was little he could say, but between her and Patroclus there was a little window now that they could see through into him.