Abaddon's hands were shaky.
He stopped what he was doing and dropped his arms to his sides, taking constant deep breaths to calm his nerves.
Whether it worked or not was questionable.
It was far more plausible that he had simply become tired of standing in one place for too long.
He reached for his robe again and pulled it on while ignoring the tremors in his hands.
The dragon clenched his fists until the shaking stopped. His firm claws became embedded in the softness of his palms.
Generally, pain had become insignificant to Abaddon over the years. But now, he was aware of a slight sting in his hands.
It was sobering.
Izanami quietly wandered into his closet looking for him. He took too long to notice her scent, and she snuck up on him before he could move his hands out of sight.
"Honey, are you..."
When her eyes settled on his clenched fists, her stomach turned in knots.
Abaddon hid his arms behind his back and forced a smile onto his face.
