[He finally glances back at Lorenz, studying the curve of his cheek and the flutter of his eyelashes as he focuses on stitching Fenris up.
He'd been afraid tonight, the instant he'd learned that woman was a mage. Terror, old and long since ingrained with him, had struck through him like lightning, and it was only because he'd had somewhat of a grip on himself that he hadn't just attacked her outright. The wound he'd received was pushed to the back of his mind, and only now does he realize how it must have felt for Lorenz, to have gotten a text like that.]
I promise.
[He means it, his voice low. His fingers absently brush against a strand of Lorenz's hair, sweeping it back away from his face.]
Did they train you for this, in your school, or was this a talent you picked up on your own?
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He'd been afraid tonight, the instant he'd learned that woman was a mage. Terror, old and long since ingrained with him, had struck through him like lightning, and it was only because he'd had somewhat of a grip on himself that he hadn't just attacked her outright. The wound he'd received was pushed to the back of his mind, and only now does he realize how it must have felt for Lorenz, to have gotten a text like that.]
I promise.
[He means it, his voice low. His fingers absently brush against a strand of Lorenz's hair, sweeping it back away from his face.]
Did they train you for this, in your school, or was this a talent you picked up on your own?