the one who is just there

HARPER

It seemingly doesn't take long for her to change her mind, no more than a few steps that he's sure ache and pull uncomfortably. It's no problem to him, even if she was at her heaviest weight he has trained with enough body dummies to pull civilians from battlefields that it wouldn't bother him in the slightest. "Come on then, up we go." Harper turns and takes a knee, waiting for her to climb upon his back - and as she suspects, easily noting her decrease in weight - before he secures his arms beneath her legs and continues walking onward towards the clinic. As badly as he wants to, he doesn't look at the wounds. Not yet. Not when he can do nothing to fix them in that moment, it will only make him upset to be useless.

"Flexible yes, but it could pull the healing skin on your burns." He doesn't want to deny her the chance to do something fun, but Harper refuses to take part in anything that will worsen her wounds, no matter how minimal they may be. "There are barracks in town, but I can teach you some hand-to-hand? I've instructed quite a few fighters." He recalls the times fondly. Fresh faces and eager eyes, seeing it dim into frustration and determination every time he put them on their asses on the mats. They had all shone so brightly. Losing what few he had had been agony, but they would have been so much more vulnerable untrained. With that knowledge, he can't deny Phoebe the desire to train.

lord don't let me break this, let me hold you lightly
give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly