49 for Savill and Raya
“Who was it?” Savill asks. He tried to be gentle as he wrapped the bandage around Raya’s finger. Raya still winced as he pulled the end tight as he tucked it beneath the wrappings, and he finished it off with a kiss to the tip of her finger. He didn’t let of her wrist and she didn’t pull away.
“No one,” she said, looking away. Raya flexed her fingers and she picked at the bandage to fold it away from her knuckle. “It was my fault.”
Savill hummed. “Did you know that blood mages can read minds?” Raya bit her lip.
“Just because he spooked me doesn’t mean he cut my finger.”
“Oh, I wasn’t finished yet, scilia.” Savill continued, waving a finger in her face. “I can’t read minds.”
“Then why did you-” Raya did snatch her hand out of his grasp then, and Savill let his arm drop to his side. He rose from his seat at the table to lean over and place another kiss on the top of her head. “So you’ll have to tell me who it was, specifically, that spooked you into dropping your knife.”
“What will you do if I tell you?”
Savill gathered his belongings - nothing more than a thinning roll of leftover bandages, a set of tweezers, and a small bottle of something he wasn’t sure the contents of but knew it burned. He threw out the stained old bandages with a clench of his hands, fire flicking between his fingers, burning them into ash. It felt good. His magic had bubbled hot under his skin since the moment she’d come to see him, blood tricking down her wrist.
“Nothing much, I assure you. A talk. A word. Perhaps a rude hand gesture.”
Raya snorted. “And that’s supposed to help?”
“Oh? And how would you defend your honor?”
“Make his tea taste bad.”
Savill tapped a finger to his chin. “So it wasn’t Solas who snuck up on you.” Raya slapped at his side and he chuckled.