✿
send me a ✿ and i’ll generate a number.
6 - fingers kiss
Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.
Empty bottles of lyrium are knocked to the ground beside him as his hands work tirelessly over the gaping wound in Hawke’s stomach, there as a result of his duel with the Arishok. He’s dying, so much blood has been lost, and Anders is desperate to save him, he cannot lose him, not now, not ever.
In spite of those fearful thoughts threatening to overwhelm him Anders is calm, focused -- he has to be. He’s giving everything he has to heal Hawke, exerting himself past exhaustion, to the point where Justice is the only reason why he is still working, because even Justice understands, as much of a distraction Hawke is, how much he means to the mage.
When at last the wound is closed and Hawke’s skin is beginning to return to its original color, Anders slumps forward, his eyes stinging and his entire body shaking from overexertion and pure relief. Hawke is going to be okay. He has not lost his one bright light in Kirkwall.
He grasps Hawke’s hand as exhaustion begins to take its toll on him, the task of keeping his eyes open becoming more and more of a challenge. His breath hitches and he finally exhales something between a laugh and a sob, lips pressing firmly against digits as he feels and hears the man lying before him awakening.
“You’re okay,” he breathes against his fingers. Finally, he allows himself to rest.
