#poor rath

Rathien would ignore the elezen's words plainly, giving a soft snort at the word truce. "It's come to my attention that you have been having company over, and surprisingly not of the lewd indecent type. Normally I wouldn't care what you do in your free time, or who you do it with," He came further into the yard. "But I can not just idly watch and say nothing when there are guests leaving the estate covered in blood and bruises, specifically when said state was caused by your hand."

Lebeaux blinked slowly. He was well aware of Rathien’s aversion to Saerdha. The miqo’te was sultry, suggestive and sensual. His very existence seemed to offend the Ishgardian catte’s sensibilities. Yet he couldn’t imagine who else he was talking about. Lebeaux smiled as he tapped a finger thoughtfully against his cheek. “You’ll have to be more specific. I am a very busy man.”

Rathien would narrow his eyes, his ears flattening. "I'm talking about one Mr. Elio Bonfils, who was found cowering behind the coat rack in the lobby," He said with a slight growl. "You can deny all you want, but the man has come looking for you, by name, before, and when I questioned him he all but confessed you did it."

Lebeaux continued tapping his finger gently against his cheek until the name was given, at which point the finger pressed just beside his lips and his head tilted somewhat. The smile growing slightly. “Ah, yes. Elio.” He mused as he took a few slow steps closer. “Sweet, stupid little Elio. Just what did he tell you I did? What did he tell you that has you so riled up to defend him.”

Rathien would growl as the other stepped forward, his cerulean tail fluffing of. "The reason matters not, the fact is you had no right to place your hands on him in such a way." He glared up at the elezen as he approached, not intimidated by the difference in height. "For some unfathomable reason he cares for you and you will still just as openly insult him. Are you really so miserable that you feel you have to make even those who might tolerate you, hate you?"

Lebeaux paused a short distance from Rathien, but to the miqo’te’s credit he didn’t turn and run or even back away. “I’d suggest you keep your nose to your own business.” He offered coolly. “What was that about curiosity and cattes…” He mused as the smile grew a little further, quirking at the corner somewhat. “Did he show you the alleged marks?”

Rathien would huff, tail waving behind him. "I suggest you keep your hands off other people." He shot right back in a hiss. "I did see them...he asked for my assistance in having the bruises removed. Naturally I agreed and he removed his shirts to show me. Lai was a witness to the whole thing, though I doubt you will go prodding him for answers." His ears came back up, but his voice became frigid. "Do not touch him again. I shall know if you do, and the offending marks will be mere childsplay compared to what I will do to you."

Lebeaux folded his arms primly across his chest. “You claim to be a medical professional.” He explained calmly. “What caused that particular sort of bruising without swelling in such a pattern.”

Rathien would blink at that, his eyes flicking, perking to attention. "There's several things that could cause that condition, from prolonged exposure to trauma, to a bleeding disorder, medications..." He would wrinkle his nose. "I know not what you did, so please, enlighten me."

Lebeaux smiled. “Of course, I would be glad to expand your knowledge.” He offered. “I put my lips to his skin and sucked. Hard. In several places in rapid succession. There was a little biting here and there but plainly not hard enough to leave marks for you to find.” The smile was an outright grin now. “They were hickies, Rathien. Love bites. Pick your term but there was no violence involved. You’ve blundered head-first into nothing more than the aftermath of a lovers’ quarrel in the heat of passion. Well done.” He lied smoothly. “I rather suspect he was playing you for sympathy when he had none from me.” The arrogance was just rolling off of his words in sheets now.

Rathien's ears would go and his jade green eyes would widen. Even his tail would cease it's irritable swaying and curl as his face turned a bright shade of crimson. "I-I...I don't believe it." He huffed, and the tail went back to swatting the air. "T-Then why was he hiding in the lobby crying?!" He recovered quickly, embarrassed for two completely different reasons, but foolish pride forced him to regain his composure. "And if that's all it was, then why not just say it? The way he spoke it was as if he grieved your loss. Something else happened, didn't it, and neither of you want to say."

“As I said, he is a sweet but stupid boy.” Lebeaux explained with a roll of his shoulder. He had absolutely delighted in Rathien’s response. Seeing the miqo’te blushing and flustered was a sweet enough treat it would likely last him several suns. Or at least it should have. The grin faded and the medic glanced past the smaller man towards the door. “He was already in mourning because he told me to kill myself and gave me the means to do it.” Lebeaux stated flatly, the amusement long gone. “You grew up in Ishgard, Rathien.” He let the emphasis hang on the other’s adopted name. “You should know better than most that we are all dangerous in our own ways. Even silly little boys who cry over their own weakness can do harm when pressed. Move away from the door you’ve taken enough of my time.”

Rathien was stunned by that response, but he refused to let it show, more then a small swallow. "I don't believe it." He said firmly. "Why would he? Besides doing all of us a favor it's clear he actually likes you." His tail waved back and forth. "Regardless, my threat still stands. If he comes crying to me about you again, you know I will find you." His fingers clutched the book at his side so hard he could feel the binding biting into his fingers, but he stepped aside, making his way toward the garden.

Lebeaux snorted. “Believe what you like. He’s given you his version I’ve given you mine. I don’t particularly care either way so long as you keep your nose to your own business.” He suggested as the miqo’te moved aside. The elezen’s smile was a bit smug, yet overall seemed a bit tired. “I suspect he does care. And how many foolish things have you done for a misguided notion of love.” He suggested as he grabbed the door handle. “Sweet, stupid Rathien. Now I see how you two would get on. Good day.”