Broken Boulder ten detected, nine in a wreck and

If he was being honest with himself, he was terrified. He and Lily did not understand each other on some level— perhaps wouldn't ever, and that could have been okay once. Now, it could never be okay. Now he knew what damage he could do to her— he knew what kind of monster he could make himself. She could have died. And maybe, maybe now she would only live half a life— he could not risk taking the rest from her.
So he didn't say a word. His pause followed Lily's in short order, and he glanced over her pile with an appreciative nod. The seeds would not shake loose until the poppies were dried, so he bundled his own closer together and gestured for her to add what she had collected. He would take them somewhere to dry later.
Thank you, He managed, voice almost toneless; perhaps he was trying a bit too hard to compose himself. He settled himself awkwardly, looking at anything but Lily. It didn't feel right to just leave— and part of him didn't want to. He wanted to linger, to try to somehow fix this even if she was mute and broken because he didn't think he could stand this another moment, but— that would only be tormenting both of them.
So he floated somewhere between the two, eventually staring at her in silence as if she was a ticking time bomb.