He insisted that his gifts were not wanted. Leeloo frowned at the ground and said nothing more on it. Still, it troubled her that he hated what made him a protector.
"It is a nice place," Leeloo said thoughtfully. "I suppose I will need to find a way back there. I don't think I should stay with Peter." She paused again. "Unless there are two of them. Then perhaps I should." Pressing her hands together, she examined the seam her skin made with itself. "He is a good man," she said quietly.
But she did not feel the way he felt for her; she knew that. Eric and Ben had called themselves 'mates' and Leeloo had tried to use the word for herself and Peter... but it didn't seem to fit. She didn't mind staying with him, when he so clearly needed her. Leeloo could still remember the day he appeared shivering and desperate in a ball in her bedroom, wholly overcome with his own emotion. He'd clung to her, then, as if she could save him from whatever it was that had seized his mind. She'd tried. She held him and let him hold her and waited until he stopped shivering. He had needed her, then. He still needed her now.
But maybe he never needed her at all. Maybe he had been trying to hold onto the one that Eric knew as Lee, the dark-haired version of herself.