He had to refrain from looking at Kieran too long, no more used to the sight of raw wrists and dark circles than he had been the first time, his eyes liable to get caught on the sight of already-purpling bruises that they both knew Kieran had unwillingly inflicted upon himself. Hard not to look, hard not to frown at them.
So Jude turned away for long enough to set the beaten kettle aside, and shifted his own tea from table to counter to table again, a little too restless to just sit. He had only hummed in return of the greeting, but if he wanted to reassure Kieran that he had fared better in the night (which was true, clearly, but not by much), he would have to open his mouth. He propped himself against the counter in preparation. “Eventually,” he said thickly, pushing the leaf to the roof of his mouth to try and keep it there.
Best move on, swiftly. Besides, they had a pattern: Jude was the one who had been appointed (self-appointed?) to worry about Kieran, and not the other way round. “How do you feel?”
So Jude turned away for long enough to set the beaten kettle aside, and shifted his own tea from table to counter to table again, a little too restless to just sit. He had only hummed in return of the greeting, but if he wanted to reassure Kieran that he had fared better in the night (which was true, clearly, but not by much), he would have to open his mouth. He propped himself against the counter in preparation. “Eventually,” he said thickly, pushing the leaf to the roof of his mouth to try and keep it there.
Best move on, swiftly. Besides, they had a pattern: Jude was the one who had been appointed (self-appointed?) to worry about Kieran, and not the other way round. “How do you feel?”
