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“This is very kind of you, Ale, but do you not think that one of the others would have an easier time to—”
“Shut up, schoolboy. I’m perfectly capable of bandaging a hand. Hold this for me.”
Ale wishes he could say that he was strictly annoyed and nothing else. But the truth is that he hasn’t been annoyed by Angelo for a while now, even though he wishes he could be. Instead he’s annoyed by himself and his impractical feelings.
“There’s no need to injure yourself on my behalf, you know. I can hold my—”
“I know you are very capable, Ale, but it is a knight’s duty to prot—”
“You’re not a knight anymore though, are you?”
Angelo closes his mouth as he watches Ale wrap the bandage around his hand carefully. Ale doesn’t need anyone to hold open doors for him, or to protect him in a fight, or to carry heavy things for him or even worse, to carry him.
But somehow the fact that Angelo does all these things—or tries to do them, anyway—without ulterior motive and not because he thinks that Ale is weak, but out of a weird, internalized sense of duty and honor…
It makes Ale feel things he definitely shouldn’t be feeling.
“I hope I did not offend you with my actions, Ale. I know you are a capable fighter. I did not mean to imply that you were weak. You are certainly not. Indeed, I would say that you are the best fighter I have ever crossed blades with.”
Ale ignores the fluttering rush in his stomach and glances up at Angelo’s face. He looks so earnestly concerned, so open and sincere. Ale curses his face and his honesty.
“Don’t sweat it, schoolboy. I’m not offended. But I don’t want you to get hurt on my behalf, understand?”
“Understood.”
Ale fastens the bandage.
Angelo’s hand is warm and way bigger than his. He should probably let go, but it’s unnecessarily hard to take his hand away and Ale makes the mistake of glancing up at Angelo’s face again.
The big oaf is blushing as he’s staring down at Ale’s hand holding his. Ale wishes he didn’t find this terribly endearing. He wishes his heart wouldn’t press against his rib cage as it speeds up.
“All done”, he says and finally lets go of Angelo’s hand.
“Thank you, Ale.”
“You’re welcome, schoolboy.”