"You're bleeding on me."
"Shut up."
Kevin didn't shut up. His hands moved carefully over her knuckles, violet light threading through the cuts and bruises, knitting skin back together with a faint warmth that made Vivianne's fingers tingle. But his eyes kept flicking to her chest, not staring, exactly, more like he was trying very hard not to stare and failing miserably.
"I said shut up."
"I didn't say anything."
"Your face is saying plenty."
Kevin's cheeks flushed, and he focused very deliberately on her right hand, turning it over to inspect the damage to her palm. The torn fabric of her shirt hung loose across her collarbone, the guardian's claws having sliced through the reinforced cloth like it was paper. A strip of it had peeled away entirely, exposing the dark fabric beneath, and more than a little skin.
"I can lend you my coat," he offered.
"It's covered in your sweat."
"I'll wash it first."
