Continued from here! | @knavist
She expected him to seize her wrist, to forcibly remove her fingertips from that perpetually-healing wound--even if she wasnât as intimately familiar as some assumed, she knew how strongly Saruhiko felt about having control of his personal space, especially that spot in particular. The story behind it wasnât something she was privvy to, but it didnât take a genius to see that the wound was more than physical. Why else would he pick at it? The compulsion had to come from something stronger than the sense she knew he had. He was incredibly smart, after all, so he had to be refusing to follow the logic that drove his ascent up the ranks of Sceptor Four... and there was his temper, burning bright even as he cast her hand aside.
If he wanted her to retreat, then the flinch he earned at first might not be a disappointment to him--but ultimately, she held firm, not backing down from sharpened words he hurled her way like knives. For all that many feared his wrath, after all... those flames were nothing to one who walked with fire in a literal sense. Someone had to question him lest he stop thinking, and she was willing to throw herself on the bonfire to do it. A firm shake of her head.
âIt would if you stopped picking at it like that, and we both know it. So why, Fushimi? Why not leave it alone?â
To her credit, she didnât avert her eyes when he clawed at it anew... though digits still coated in healing balm twitched at the sight as if resisting the urge to treat the wound.
