#;florian

i love our town

          He’s fighting the urge to sleep; the water is warm and so are the arms around him, making him feel so calm and relaxed. Florian sighs and turns his head upwards a little, leaning even further into Griff’s touch. After the day he’s had it seems like it’s the only thing that can brig him comfort, even if the bath feels too small for the both of them. “Don’t let me fall asleep in here,” Florian says, his voice sounding tired, like falling asleep right here, right now is all he wants to do. He grabs hold of Griffin’s hand, laces their fingers together and wraps their arms around his chest, eyes closing for a long second. 

         “Thank you,” Florian nods, a corner of his mouth lifting slightly in some sort of grateful barely-smile; he fixes his clothes and looks around -- they seem to be leaving a bloody mess behind them but that’s a concern for another set of people -- apparently, someone was on their way to fix all that. “We should get back,” he says; he gives the man a proper smile this time as he grabs one of his hands and gives it a squeeze. “You know I don’t like doing things like this so I’m... tired, to say the least,” he mutters as they make their way towards the car -- Florian’s the fix-it guy; he can stitch someone up, stop them from bleeding out but give him a gun and put him on the spot like that and he doesn’t know what to do. “You drive. Let’s go to mine, you should stay over,” he tells Ken as he hands him the car keys.

          “You must be important. I don’t patch up outsiders that often, we usually have them bleed out to death,” Florian says as he works on the stitches on the man’s forehead; he’s never the one for violence -- and Vito knows that, thus keeping him off anything that involves direct danger; it’s just their own people coming in with injuries of various levels; stab wounds, gunshot wounds, internal bleedings and whatnot -- or like this one, a couple bruised ribs, a slowly growing black eye and a split temple. Except this is not one of their own; it’s someone foreign -- that’s why the man’s arms are tied to the chair and there are two other men in the room with them in case anything goes sour. “What’s your name?” An odd situation to be striking up a conversation but Florian doesn’t have it in him to play tough right now -- it’s way too late for that and he really can’t be bothered.