Philip hated being vulnerable. With anyone else he was just a prick. But with you it was different. You had become his favorite soldier, and he genuinely considered you his friend. He was possessive of you, attached to you, and he hadn’t even realized the depth of his feelings.

Now you sat in his lap, listening to him as he rambled. He complained how no woman was ever good to him while the perfect woman sat in his lap. “Women just don’t get me, ya know?” He complained, oblivious.