Troy glanced sideways at him, concern etched into his usually playful face. "You alright?" he asked, hands tucked neatly behind his back like a proper soldier, but his eyes gave away the worry.
Riven turned his head, a mischievous glint already forming in his emerald eyes. He wasn't about to show the tangle of emotions he felt, grief, bitterness, the sting of old scars reopening. No. He would wrap it all in a pretty bow of flirtation and teasing instead.
With a cocky smile, he leaned slightly closer to Troy, his voice dropping into a sultry lilt. "You offering to comfort me, Troy? I know a few things we could do. Hands-on things. Therapeutic."
Troy went red instantly—like a tomato dipped in boiling water. "N-No thank you!" he stammered, practically hopping a step away from Riven. "I mean—it's not that you're not… You're very attractive! I mean, objectively! But I value my life, Riven!"
Riven arched a brow, laughing softly at the reaction. "I knew it. You're scared of Ronan."
