fire and ice and everything nice.

‘Fuckin ‘ell,’ Cain groaned through gritted teeth, clutching an arm wound that appeared to be bleeding a bit more than you might see on a Thursday evening stroll, which was — well — a lot. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said to the face that appeared slightly mortified by the gripped wound. ‘Ain’t all that bad but I could use your help for two seconds if you’ve got it, yea?’

“Okay, listen, I found your wallet on the ground,” Rian lied as she reluctantly handed it over, a poker face although she was kicking herself for getting caught, “I was just about to look at the ID to return it.” 

Aiden snatched the leather back, sliding it back into his pocket. “Sure,” he grumbled. “It’s strange, though --- my wallet wasn’t in my pocket in the first place.”