She's not anything special.
Doesn't hold a candle to his lush and lovely Drusilla or even to Darla's haughty and frightening beauty. Sweet though. Kind and gentle, if quiet.
He wonders if she's as quiet when she's abed with Red?
Not at her best, afraid and cowering. He can see she's had a lifetime of getting beaten down by bigger, meaner folk.
He knows that story.
Smile turns sour.
Prettier when she smiles. Prettier when she hopes. Prettier when there's someone willing to fight for her.
He knows nothing about that.
Never had anyone to fight for him.