In spite of his concentration on the brain wounds, Ari sensed the almost-protest about the draught. But when he glanced up properly, Ben had drained it and settled down. Thank Merlin. Now all Ari had to do was stay calm too; breathe and get on with things.
Ben’s hand closing around his sent a spark of something bursting through his veins, and then a warmth near as good as any calming draught. Assured that they were alone for the moment, Ari threaded his fingers between Ben’s and didn’t let go for a while, grateful that at least he’d come and found him. It would be worse, truthfully, not being in the room with him, no matter what he’d done.
“You can’t say I wasn’t warned along the way, hm?” Ari remarked wryly, his expression soft. Where to even begin, in selecting an example? There were too many things to choose from, between auror injuries, horse-riding scrapes, trolls and broom crashes, sprained ankles and bleeding hands. For as long as they’d been friends. Longer, really; he hadn’t forgotten their Hogwarts days.
Still, in spite of how he’d reacted earlier, all that stress was as bearable now as it was bad. “I knew what I was getting into.” He pulled Ben’s hand upwards ever so briefly to kiss it, and then forced himself to concentrate. “I have to say that the scrapes you’re getting into are getting more creative by the day,” he teased, wincing still at the marks the brains had left. “Keeps me on my toes.”
Ben’s hand closing around his sent a spark of something bursting through his veins, and then a warmth near as good as any calming draught. Assured that they were alone for the moment, Ari threaded his fingers between Ben’s and didn’t let go for a while, grateful that at least he’d come and found him. It would be worse, truthfully, not being in the room with him, no matter what he’d done.
“You can’t say I wasn’t warned along the way, hm?” Ari remarked wryly, his expression soft. Where to even begin, in selecting an example? There were too many things to choose from, between auror injuries, horse-riding scrapes, trolls and broom crashes, sprained ankles and bleeding hands. For as long as they’d been friends. Longer, really; he hadn’t forgotten their Hogwarts days.
Still, in spite of how he’d reacted earlier, all that stress was as bearable now as it was bad. “I knew what I was getting into.” He pulled Ben’s hand upwards ever so briefly to kiss it, and then forced himself to concentrate. “I have to say that the scrapes you’re getting into are getting more creative by the day,” he teased, wincing still at the marks the brains had left. “Keeps me on my toes.”
