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“Martin,” Jon says, kneeling down to where Martin sits, “I promise that I will keep you safe. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
Martin doesn’t look up from where he sits with his knees pressed to his chest, his face stuffed in his knees.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he says bitterly, oh so bitterly. Jon touches the side of Martin’s jaw with a finger and guides it up to meet his eyes. Martin’s blue eyes meet Jon’s, now brown again for the first time in a long time. All his other eyes are closed.
“I don’t,” says Jon.