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Nithel hadn’t been expecting the punch. He’d only wanted to stop Alessio from breaking his hand on the stone, to calm him down, to make him breathe. But Nithel slung back against the wall, stars dancing in his vision, and pain cutting up his jaw. He released Alessio, one hand reaching back to steady himself against the stone, the other flying to his jaw and squeezing. Gads… You fool.  

Alessio was still lost, in that place of memory. Nithel started to stand straight again, still squeezing his jaw. Alessio’s eyes cleared of rage and turned to, a just as potent, fear.

“Nithel!” Alessio gasped “I’m so- I’m so sorry- I- I’m sorry-”

Nithel shook his head, eyes sad, understanding, “No, no… I should’ve expected it.” He licked the blood inside his mouth, not wanting Alessio to see. “It’s alright. It’s… alright.” Nithel breathed out slowly.

Alessio squeezed his stomach, looking sick. Concern rushed to Nithel’s eyes again, and he jumped forward as Alessio trembled, swaying like about to collapse. He put an arm around him, unsure if he’d get a knife in the back this time, but working under Alessio’s arms, “Easy.” Alessio felt rubbery. Nithel growled inside, squeezing him tighter and trying to see his bowed face, “Alessio.” Please.  

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