It was likely credit to his Quidditch and flying skills that he’d caught the crate so easily but that didn’t stop Irene from hurrying forwards. She’d pointed her wand at the dish towel near the oven; likely not the best idea given the results of her previous spell-casting had clearly left much to be desired. The towel zoomed in her hand as she met him, her other hand catching his shoulder to try to steady him.

"I’m so sorry Elias, are you alright?" The question barely escaped without her voice catching, more terrified than she would have normally been at the thought of hurting him. Irene was scanning his person just to be sure when his laugh broke through her panic. Her own laugh automatically joined his because how could she not smile when he did?

She was mid-chuckle when he cut off his joke, suddenly looking as horror-stricken as if she’d just slapped him across the face. Her own smile immediately dropped, and for a split second, she was confused at what had made the light in his expression go out. 'Trying to kill me' is what he meant to say wasn’t it? Her eyes caught the edge of the canvas casting a shadow against the wall, and suddenly the images that had plagued her nights came flooding back, ripping at the pit in her stomach again. She immediately shook her head, shutting her eyes tight. It was impossible to to rid herself of the sight of Mr. Hunt’s arm hanging in her vision, mutilated and pitiful. "It’s alright," She inwardly winced, hearing her voice shake so much as she tried to placate her friend. "No, it’s-it’s alright, I needed a laugh just then."

She tried to smile back at him, because she needed to prove to him - to herself - that everything was alright. But hadn’t she just admitted to him earlier how wretched she had been this past week? Why was she suddenly trying to lie to him? Why was there a sudden weight on her chest that made it impossible to think straight? Had all the air suddenly been sucked out of the room? The thoughts turned over in her mind and spun until they made her vision dizzy, and she shook her head again.

"I’m fine, Elias really it’s —" Her mouth had gone dry with fear and her eyes felt hot. She caught sight of his arm and moved forward with her towel. "I’m so sorry, we should c-clean you up." But even as she reached out to wipe his arm, she couldn’t help but picture how eviscerated Mr. Hunt’s own forearm was, and her hand shook violently as she patted at the wet spots.

---