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He hadn’t, however, counted on the knife. The demon wearing Charles like a suit sneered, twisting the blade upwards with an audible squelch. It didn’t make sense, considering Edwin no longer had organs to tear through, but magic knives were funny like that.
It hadn't been something Charles had considered in the last thirty or so years, coping with an existence without Edwin Payne.
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“Hey, hey, what’s going on?”
“Help me up?” Edwin asked instead, Charles moving to help ease the other boy into a sitting position. Edwin ran a tentative hand down his side, experimentally tapping the newly stitched wound with his fingers. He hissed, and that was just the confirmation of something Charles had feared.
“I knew it, I knew it was hurting you. She said she could do something about that. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It was hardly worth stopping over, Charles, honestly. I’ve endured far worse, you know this.”
“You shouldn’t have to! It’s my fault we needed her help in the first place.”
“Charles.” Edwin looked a combination of devastated and exhausted, but then, he’d had quite the day. “It is so very important to me you understand there is no instance in which the blame falls on you.”
He lifted a hand, Charles’s cheek pressing into it like it belonged there. “No matter what some lowly creature may have tried to tell you today, you are still and will always be the best person I know.”“You’ve told me that before, mate.”
“And I shall continue to do so until there comes a day you believe me.”
Charles smiled, turning his head to press a kiss against Edwin’s knuckles.
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