He did want to, yet to admit that out loud would mean admitting the fact to himself, something he wasn't prepared to do while he was still telling himself that he was doing this because it was a shame for someone (even if that someone was Greengrass) to be limping around when he knew how to cure a rolled ankle. "Good," he answered instead, avoiding eye contact as he stepped forward and hesitantly placed his hand around Greengrass' elbow. His fingers tingled against the fabric of his coat, something that should have alarmed him considering that it wasn't even Greengrass' skin—but at that moment he was too worried about watching the way Greengrass reacted to his touch.
"If you can sit down against the wall, it'll be easier to take care of," he said quietly, nodding in the direction of the stone wall that extended a few feet beyond where they stood. It was easier to heal a foot sitting down—easier to heal Greengrass' especially, since he wasn't sure he was emotionally capable of kneeling down on the ground next to Greengrass without being distracted by the memories of their time spent together. Dammit.
"If you can sit down against the wall, it'll be easier to take care of," he said quietly, nodding in the direction of the stone wall that extended a few feet beyond where they stood. It was easier to heal a foot sitting down—easier to heal Greengrass' especially, since he wasn't sure he was emotionally capable of kneeling down on the ground next to Greengrass without being distracted by the memories of their time spent together. Dammit.
