These Quiet Moments

Mariah looked up at the sound of Caedes's voice, and for a moment, her chest tightened- a pang of embarrassment washing over her. She was a healer herself; she was capable of tending to her own wounds, especially ones that were earned so haphazardly. But as Caedes's gaze met hers, any semblance of judgment was absent in his emerald eyes. His focus was on the wound, and the calm assurance in his voice eased the knot in her chest even as the pain throbbed in her arm. She considered resisting his request, shooing him away, and insisting that there was nothing to be concerned over. That was the truth of the matter, after all. However, after a moment of silent hesitance, she eventually extended her forearm- twisting it to provide an optimal line of sight. It was the allure of being the subject of his concern that eventually tipped the scale- but also, it was interest in his method, and how far it differed from her own.

"Mariah Mendacium"