Oh no.
She was crying.
Ciaran just stared at her, his mouth went dry and he opened it and closed it again and just stared at her.
"Who said you're not pretty?" He said softly, having stopped but tucking them under a tree to keep most of the rain at bay. Ciaran did not put her down, instead he held her tighter and tucked his chin over her head, "Looks aren't everything," he said softly voice rough. He'd made her cry.
Ciaran felt awful.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry. Of course I can see you. I see your plush lips and your rosy cheeks, you work outside, Hay-Gee, you're not going to be silk and dresses and you expecting that of yourself isn't doing you any favours. Have you seen my hands? I could ruin fine fabric just by touching it they're so rough." Ciaran sighed before he cuddled her up in his arms and moved to sit down, keeping her firmly on his lap, "I don't care if you want to walk, we're going to sit like this until you're not crying anymore.