Today I drove home a girl with over-cautious parents. She explained abashedly that she was not to be driven home by a guy alone, so I accepted her shy entreaty. I had known this girl in elementary school and remember when she would stop me outside the restrooms to ask me what being a 4th-grader was like, and again in middle school, and now again, when irony has made asking questions impermissible, I have offered a word. I can tell her fragility and a friend of mine with--a questionable moral compass--has set his sights on her lovely self. I said a word to her about it with terrible self-awareness of the unacceptability of sincerity and the instincts of protection. All as 'tis willed, but I gave her my profession of care.
I hoped it would fit in keeping with the "favor/skill." Vain me.