Casandra’s smile fell. “Alright. Well, whenever you decide you want to stop pouting like a child, come find me.” Besaun clenched his hands on his knees. “How can I stop acting like a child when no one will stop treating me like one?” Casandra stared at him. He didn’t meet her eyes, didn’t want to see them soften with compassion. At last, she spoke. “Maybe being a man isn’t something someone has to give you. Maybe being a man is just what you are.” She squeezed his shoulder once more before standing. The door closed softly behind her.
