06-02-2020, 06:26 PM
Christian urged him aside, though he really didn’t want to go. Reassurances were offered but it was overwhelming, and Raffe wasn’t sure he absorbed it all well -- and definitely not quickly. His hands brushed over his head, or rubbed his jaw; small marks of agitation. Cars and drivers and medical teams and this HUGE house. All meant to help, but all he could see bright in his mind’s eye was how badly Nox had been shaking.
Then Christian said something else that just made him blink stupidly. His first thought was denial, and so was his second and third, but it didn’t matter what was true if that was what Nox thought. He pinched his eyes, the horror draining. He didn’t have room for the concern, not for himself. He thanked Christian vaguely, and felt bad for it -- especially since he knew the man was just as worried. He’d make up for it. But later.
When he returned he joined Nox perched on the edge of the bed, not knowing what to do -- even feeling a rare swell of anger for the fact he did not know what to do. In the end he only leaned in to rest his chin on the other man’s shoulder, face pressed close, eyes closed. “I’m sorry too,” he whispered. An arm wrapped around, not really sure any of the words would get through. The ache in his chest hurt like something physical. “He was going to shoot you, though. I didn’t do it on purpose. I don’t even know if I did do it. But I wouldn’t let him shoot you, and that part I’m not sorry for, Nox. Just for what it’s caused.”
Then Christian said something else that just made him blink stupidly. His first thought was denial, and so was his second and third, but it didn’t matter what was true if that was what Nox thought. He pinched his eyes, the horror draining. He didn’t have room for the concern, not for himself. He thanked Christian vaguely, and felt bad for it -- especially since he knew the man was just as worried. He’d make up for it. But later.
When he returned he joined Nox perched on the edge of the bed, not knowing what to do -- even feeling a rare swell of anger for the fact he did not know what to do. In the end he only leaned in to rest his chin on the other man’s shoulder, face pressed close, eyes closed. “I’m sorry too,” he whispered. An arm wrapped around, not really sure any of the words would get through. The ache in his chest hurt like something physical. “He was going to shoot you, though. I didn’t do it on purpose. I don’t even know if I did do it. But I wouldn’t let him shoot you, and that part I’m not sorry for, Nox. Just for what it’s caused.”