It's shocking, to see her reach into her chest, a momentary flash of pain filtering across her face, knitting her brow before easing away with a soft grunt as she pulls her hand back, something held lightly in her grasp.
"Will you protect this for me? Zelena can't know where it is; going into this fight without it may be the only advantage I have." She looks so uncertain,holding her breath, searching his face, as she extends her hands and literally offers him the heart resting in her palms. Her heart.
For a moment he just stares in awe at the woman before him, and the beautiful object she gently slides into his grasp. It's warmer than he expected it to be, soft, yet firm, as he cradles it in his hands. It's fascinating; a perfectly complicated amalgamation of light and dark, just like the woman it belongs to. He strokes a thumb across the surface, a gentle caress, and he feels the beat quicken slightly, pulsing against his fingertips, a shiver passing through her body.
"Can you feel that?"
"Mmhmm," she hums, swallowing thickly before her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
He does it again and watches her eyes flutter closed, lips parting on a soft sigh. The temptation to close the minuscule space between them and pull her bottom lip between his own, to run his tongue along the seam of her lips and taste the cherry colored lacquer coating her mouth, is almost overwhelming.
"I will guard this with my life, you have my word," he breathes, breaking the spell between them as her eyes snap open and focus on him, softening in gratitude and disbelief.
"Thank you," she smiles, a bit tight at the edges, but gentle and relieved. "Hopefully it won't be for long."
"Take as long as you need," he answers, reaching over and grasping one of her hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The bright red leather of her gloves slides against palm as he loosens his grip. He wishes she wasn't wearing them; he wants to feel the heat from his hands press into hers, warming her skin as he passes his thumb along the peaks and valleys of her knuckles, to give what little comfort he can before she walks off into the darkness to face her sister, but he'll have to settle for this instead.
She gives him one last nod before turning and walking back through the forest, back stiff, shoulders squared, every inch oozing the cool, regal confidence of a queen that he knows she isn't quite feeling. When she's out of sight, he settles down and leans his back against a tree, his precious charge still resting in his palms. He knows he should hide it some place safe, but he wants to just look at it for a moment, memorize the entrancing patterns of vibrant crimson and murky ebony that bob and weave, winding together across the surface of her heart and he begins to run his fingertips along the surface again.
He may be imagining it, but the swirling patches of red seem to glow a bit brighter with every pass of his fingers, every delicate stroke, as if they're drawing strength from his touch. He hopes she can feel it wherever she is, that his presence will comfort her until she is able to reclaim this bit of herself she's entrusted to him.
Until then he will guard her heart, he will keep this piece of her safe until she returns to him; until he can help make her whole.