` i’ve never done this before. ' :+)
FINGERS FLICK THROUGH THE AIR AS IF PUNCTURED by the tooth of an animal in the wild. slight crimson oozes slowly from inigo’s index finger & gerome can hear a hiss of pain slip through his teeth before offering his anticipated excuse. if it were such a pain, then perhaps he should have refrained from persisting that they do something that gerome likes to do. he speaks tiredly, unenthused.
‶ And you make it more difficult than it’s worth. ʺ
inigo holds a needle laced with thread ( one that gerome had looped himself ) & a tampered cloth in his hand. he watches him for a moment, his fumbling fingers quite entertaining to keep watch of, despite of how he’d never care to admit it. honestly, he doesn’t even watch that long, for in no moment’s time, inigo has prodded himself once more, almost in the same spot as before. his eyes tighten closed in some sort of traumatic turmoil, as if he’d never felt the sting of a blade rip through his flesh.
gerome sighs a sigh not of irritation, nor impatience, no, mostly one of exhaustion.
& his fingers find themselves wrapped around inigo’s, applying pressure to his ‘ wound ’ as to stop the redness from leaking onto the already dirtied fabric. he holds it briefly before releasing his grasp & fixing his hold of the needle. truthfully, he’s surprised that inigo hasn’t made some childish remark, nor screamed as if he were being murdered by a wyvern set aflame. gerome looks to him, seeking some sort of anticipated ill reaction, but he only sees wide eyes carrying the weight of surprise, astonishment, & confusion. embarrassment washes over him suddenly as he realizes inigo’s expression is born only from the result of his actions. ‶ Ergh . . . ʺ with a low grunt of humiliation & a quick release of his hands, he pulls himself from the boy completely in the realization that perhaps his actions were not entirely appropriate for the situation at hand.
eyes that had darted to the wall wander back to inigo if only to reassure himself that he’s still there, & he is, only smiling. in the moment, gerome cannot tell if it is a smile of conniving fulfillment or one of genuine compassion, however he finds it in his best interest to leave that conclusion to the gods. for now, he pulls quickly into himself, stands & supplies great distance between the two, nearing closer to the exit. in a quick & serious tone, before making his desired escape, he demands,
‶ Do not speak of this. ʺ
as if he’d enacted some taboo crime, never to be committed.
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