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"It's a long corridor and we're almost at the end…" John murmured.
Arthur has his hand on the wall, he understood what John is talking about, he isn't all that useless when he can navigate easily like this without…
His hand is no longer on the wall, barely skimming along the doorpost before his fingers are interlaced by someone's else's. He can feel the coolness of slick warmth in the palms and fingers, and he has the urge to drag his hand away but whoever it is held firm.
"Hello, princess," Kayne greeted.
Arthur scowled, "Not my name."
"Uh, Kayne is here," John said, as if it weren't obvious.
Kayne chuckled, amused. "What have you been up to, my little rosebud?"
"I didn't think I'd run into you," Arthur said, still trying to pull his hand away, and when he managed to do so, he grimaced at the feeling of what he figured was blood on his hand.
"The blood drips from your fingertips, Arthur."
"Yeah, I can feel it." He grimaced and dug into his pocket for his handkerchief. "I would like for you not to do that again."
"He's to your right," said John.
Arthur clicked his tongue and turned his head, and the moment he did, he felt something pressed against his face. He went far too still for his own good, and heard Kayne laughing as he ran off down the hallway Arthur had come from.
He tentatively touched his cheek where he had been kissed, unsure of what to even say.
"Uh, well…Kayne just—"
"Please, John, don't explain what just happened." Arthur sighed.