Flint smiles. He can see Scout's thoughts like they're a tangle of yarn that he's afraid of picking apart. To the least, he can see Scout's face growing pink, which is a hopelessly charming look, as far as Flint is concerned.

"I don't care what they think." Flint actually cares about what everyone thinks, all the time, but it feels brave to say it. When he's with Scout, sometimes it feels like it could be true. "You don't have to be so careful with me, you know. I mean—" He smiles again, more self-consciously. "I like that you're careful. But you don't have to worry about... how I feel."