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Leona sprawls down on the bed after that. “Fine with me, we’ll find some excuse. He can’t reach me easily here.” He almost looks like his normal lazy self, if it wasn’t for the sliver of bruised skin still exposed.
“Can I heal you?” Jamil offers. A green eye opens and peers at him from Kalim’s pillows.
“It’s not pretty.”
“I didn’t think it would be.”
“What if I don’t wanna be in your debt?”
“You already are, but I’m no Azul. Quit stalling.”
That gets another snort out of Leona, then slowly he pushes himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He grabs his shirt to tug it off, then pauses, eyes cutting to Kalim.
“You’re staying too?”
Kalim nods, determined. “Yes, I’m good with healing magic, I’ll help.” He looks at Jamil, who nods back: it’s both true and they might need it.
Leona’s upper lip curls, exposing fangs. “Not what I meant. What Falena did…” He glances at Jamil, willing him to understand. Jamil does, but he’s quite sure Kalim does too, and he’ll still want to help.
“I’m staying,” he promptly says, stubbornly caring.
“Fine,” Leona grits out, then he’s stripping, showing them more damage, glaring as if daring them to say anything, maybe about the hand-shaped bruises on his hips, or the bites on his thighs.
But they say nothing, just coordinating with a few glances, as they lift their pens and cast, magic flowing over Leona’s body. He gasps, then sighs in relief, before slumping back onto the bed, finally asleep in the absence of pain.
Jamil turns to Kalim, finding an unusual frown on his face. Jamil takes his hand and Kalim blinks.
“We’ll keep him safe,” Jamil reassures.
Kalim nods. “We’ll keep him.”
Jamil knows he won’t be defied.