10-24-2019, 11:32 AM
He was surprised Nox accepted the help, but not disappointed. Though he quickly realised the man was way more wobbly that he’d suspected, or his bravado had let on. A small frown tugged when Nox ended up back on the edge of the bed, and he didn’t try to disguise his worry. “If he is, Carmen will let him in, or one of the other girls will,” he said. “If not I’ll find him when I head back.” It had the ring of a promise; the attempt anyway, because if the dog had not returned to the club by now then Raffe had little idea where to even start looking. But he’d try, that much was assured.
He sat close, by instinct as much as desire. Everything had a clinical smell but something stirred the memory of the bed they’d shared anyway. It had been nice waking up to the press of warm skin and mussed blankets, nicer than it should have been considering all they’d done was sleep. He didn’t want to think about whatever poison scared Nox enough to have his own arm severed just to mitigate the risk of infection, but it kept creeping in anyway. Dorian was still speaking with the doctors. He wasn’t sure if was a good sign or not.
A second attempt at standing seemed to have less vigor. Raffe gave a lopsided smile as he propped Nox up. “Since when did that ever stop you?” he leaned in to ask, part tease and part accusation, though given the struggle just to stand he was probably right. Then, a moment later, he added, somewhat hesitantly, as if the thought was still forming. “Oriena knows someone to do with some underground fight club. He healed this.” He pressed his fingers against the raised scar. The badly part was unspoken, but it had still saved his life. “If you think it would help with the, uh. With the possible infection, I can find out more.”
He sat close, by instinct as much as desire. Everything had a clinical smell but something stirred the memory of the bed they’d shared anyway. It had been nice waking up to the press of warm skin and mussed blankets, nicer than it should have been considering all they’d done was sleep. He didn’t want to think about whatever poison scared Nox enough to have his own arm severed just to mitigate the risk of infection, but it kept creeping in anyway. Dorian was still speaking with the doctors. He wasn’t sure if was a good sign or not.
A second attempt at standing seemed to have less vigor. Raffe gave a lopsided smile as he propped Nox up. “Since when did that ever stop you?” he leaned in to ask, part tease and part accusation, though given the struggle just to stand he was probably right. Then, a moment later, he added, somewhat hesitantly, as if the thought was still forming. “Oriena knows someone to do with some underground fight club. He healed this.” He pressed his fingers against the raised scar. The badly part was unspoken, but it had still saved his life. “If you think it would help with the, uh. With the possible infection, I can find out more.”