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There was somebody in Nero’s kitchen.
The blue haired man grimaced, reaching for a knife. Here in the east, he wasn’t openly a wizard. He would lose his entire wellbeing in East Country. Luckily, Nero was good with a knife.
Nero paused and glanced at the ground. Whoever was in his kitchen was bleeding.
He spun around the corner with his knife raised.
“Hey—!”
Nero wished he could say he simply lowered his knife. Instead, he completely slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground.
Bradley was bleeding heavily in his kitchen.
Bradley looked over at Nero, shock on his face. It slowly turned into mirth as the man started to laugh.
“I’ll be…damned. Out of all the places to arrive…” Bradley shook his head.
And then, he tilted forward, crashing to the ground just like Nero’s knife had.
Nero couldn’t help himself. He dashed forward, grabbing Bradley. He grunted as the entirety of the other man’s weight impacted him, staggering for a moment.
“Brad, wake up. Hey, c’mon. Brad. Brad!”
—————
Bradley opened his eyes a crack. His head was spinning. He felt like he could barely see.
“Where…” He raised his hand slightly.
“Stop moving. You’re feverish and injured.” A firm hand clasped his wrist.
Bradley blinked slowly. He opened his mouth, but was shushed. He turned his head over to look at the person next to him.
“I thought I said stop moving.” The other man grumbled.
Bradley thought he was the most beautiful man in the world.
“Hey.” Bradley ignored his instructions, reaching up towards the other man’s face.
The man jerked away, as if Bradley’s man was stovehot.
“Hey.” Bradley repeated. “The scars on my hand too ugly for you?”
“Shut up.” The other man looked away.
“Fine.” Bradley chuckled, resting his hand against his chest, wincing as he came in contact with a bandage.
“Move your hand.” The man leaned over him, gently taking Bradley’s hand and moving it off of him to a less painful spot.
Such a lovely man shouldn’t have such rough hands with such a firm grip.
“What was that?” The man looked at Bradley.
Had he said that out loud?
Bradley just grinned. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to say that.”
The other man stayed silent. Bradley felt exhaustion overwhelm him, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.
Bradley felt like he knew he would be safe, asleep with the man watching over him.
Once Bradley was asleep, Nero buried his head in his hands and sobbed.
—————
Bradley didn’t remember waking up, a fact which almost made Nero a religious man. Nero carefully cleaned the other man’s injuries three times a day, putting cold rags on his face when he deemed it necessary. Nero made sure to keep the window closed, not wanting to risk any sort of cold weather worsening Bradley’s condition.
It wasn’t the first time that Nero had taken care of Bradley in such a way. Nero never thought he would be doing it ever again.
Nero nudged the door open with his foot, carrying a tray of soup. Bradley was awake again, staring at him.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Nero grumbled, walking over and setting the tray on Bradley’s lap.
“All for me? Where’s all the meat I know you can make?” Bradley carefully picked up the spoon.
Nero sat in the chair by Bradley’s bed. “You know why.”
“Because you can’t have your cute little restaurant when I’m here, yeah? Stingy bastard.” Bradley smirked at Nero.
Nero rolled his eyes. “You’re not well enough to eat a whole bunch of meat. That’ll really kill you.”
Bradley huffed, eating a spoonful of the soup.
“Stop eying my broom like that. I’m not letting you leave in this shape, idiot.” Nero rolled his eyes.
Bradley huffed again. “Shut up.”
Nero leaned back, inspecting Bradley carefully.
“…Hey.” Nero spoke up. Bradley looked at him quizzically. Nero continued. “What happened to you?”
“Oh.” Bradley shrugged nonchalantly. “Bit of banditry gone wrong. The twins and Figaro caught me.”
Nero felt like he was shattering.
“It wasn’t that big a deal. Got some cool scars, you know, Nero. Hey…Nero?”
Nero jumped when he felt a hand on his knee. He hadn’t even realized he was curling in on himself. He looked swiftly over at Bradley, who looked concerned.
“…Not much of a fucking master thief, huh?” Nero tried to sound disinterested.
Bradley paused, then gave Nero a toothy grin. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Now, eat some of this stupid thin soup. You look like you’re gonna kneel over next.”
——————
Two weeks after Bradley arrived, Nero heard a knock on the door. He groaned, getting to his feet.
“Can’t you read? I’m closed—“ Nero opened the door, and froze.
Figaro was standing in the doorway, a pleasant smile on his face.
“I know.” The older wizard agreed amicably. “But, I’m a simple traveling doctor from the southern country. I’m in desperate need of food. In return, I can do any sort of medical procedure you may need.”
Nero took a deep breath, calming himself down.
“I don’t have anyone here who needs help, but I’ve never been able to resist a charity case. Come on in.”
Figaro certainly made himself at home in the dining area, sitting down and setting his doctor’s bag on the floor. He smiled at Nero.
“What can I get you?” Nero asked.
“Oh, just something simple. I’m imposing, so I can’t be too picky.” Fiharo waved his hand nonchalantly.
“Gotcha.” Nero strode into the kitchen, glancing back into the dining area often. Each time, Figaro was sitting calmly at his table, looking like he might be humming to himself.
Then, after a longer time focusing on his cooking than usual, Figaro was walking towards the set of stairs that led to Nero’s living quarters above the restaurant.
The stairs that led to Bradley.
“Hey!” Nero walked over. “That place is off limits. That’s where I sleep.”
Figaro stopped, turning his head to look at Nero. His smile lost some of its pleasantness, making Nero shiver.
The older wizard’s tone was cold, with a sense of forced friendliness. “I was just curious. What could you have to hide, up here?”
“There’s nothing up there.” Nero shook his head.
“I heard some thumping. What could you have up there, that you don’t want me to see, so badly?” Figaro smiled at him.
“Nothing. It’s normal for a pwrson from the East to not want someone to invade their space.” Nero walked over, forcing himself to stifle all sense of self-preservation.
“A person from the east?” The false doctor’s smile suddenly became much more cruel. “Well, you’re not either of those, are you? You’re a northern wizard. Not eastern. And most certainly not a person.”
“We wouldn’t want that to get out, would we?” Figaro gave a thinly veiled threat. “After all, the locals wouldn’t be happy to know that you were sheltering the man from the City of Rain.”
Nero stared at him.
Figaro stared back, then turned to make his way up the stairs.
That was when Nero swung to hit the man in the head.
For a man who didn’t seem fit, it wasn’t fair for Figaro to react so swiftly. Before Nero knew it, he was pinned against the banister, one arm twisted behind his back.
“Come on, can’t you just behave?” Nero could hear the amusement in Figaro’s voice.
Nero grimaced, kicking his leg swiftly behind him, hitting Figaro in the knee. The other man swore softly as he nearly fell.
Instead of a follow up attack, one that Nero was sure Figaro would anticipate, Nero simply stepped to the side.
Nero crossed his arms. “Go on. I know when I’m beat.”
Figaro blinked in shock, then laughed. “Maybe you really are eastern at heart! A northern wizard would’ve thrown himself at me until his goals were complete.”
Nero sighed, turning away. He heard Figaro making his way up the stairs.
Within moments, he heard Figaro coming back down.
“You know,” Figaro spoke. “You ought to keep your window closed. The wind blowing through was making your bedroom door hit the wall.”
“…I guess you’re right. That was careless of me.” Nero kept himself turned away. “Do you still want something to eat?”
Figaro sighed. “No, I’m afraid not. I do have to be on my way. My apologies for imposing.”
Figaro opened the door to leave, then paused, glancing back at Nero. “By the way. You really should invest in a broom.”
Nero didn’t turn to look the entire time Figaro walked out, hiding his triumphant smile the best that he could.