There were certain elements of this moment to be surprisingly grateful for, Kristoffer was finding – her hand on his chest, the other at his forehead, oddly tender for what she had just done. If he wasn’t aching all over, he would have been picturing them in bed, waking up together –

“I’ve noted,” Kristoffer agreed, in a grumbling tone. But – “Good. Now you’re a danger to everyone you meet, as long as you don’t let your guard down.” For his joking, he shot her a weak smirk; but it was good, because she had always been something of a liability, and he had never been well-suited to shining knighthood. He had always been – too selfish for that. Maybe she wasn’t wrong to have been shooting spells at him. He didn’t know that he was here for anything good.

He hauled himself up to a sitting position, since she had extricated her hands from his face already, and he was gaining no other benefits from being sprawled on the Parisian street. He leaped up roughly, never mind the protests of his body, so that he could be the one to offer her a hand up.

At the same time as that: “Better than you’ve been, by the sounds of it,” Kristoffer replied to her last question, unkindly.

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