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Headache

“Are you alright?” A asks.

“Fine, just a headache.” B says, at the exact moment a new wave of pain throbs through his skull. He closes his eyes as he kneads fingers into his aching temples. He hadn’t meant to use so much power, hadn’t lost control like that in ages. But when he’d seen A in danger...

The thought that A could make him lose control like that set his heart-pounding, or maybe it’s just the thought of A.

“You should take it easy,” A says, and it’s only then that B notices the tight lines of concerns on A’s face. He doesn’t like it—doesn’t like the way the emotion flattens his grin, crinkles his brow, darkens his eyes.

“I’ll be okay,” B says. “I always am,” but as he takes a step forward, his knees buckle and his vision darkens. He feels himself falling, down, down toward the ground and the darkness. As he does, he braces himself for the pain, but it never comes. What comes instead are strong arms, a familiar scent, and a kiss of words against his neck:

“I’ve got you.”