illustration of my good friends’ fic, The Hound, the Healer, and the Hunt.
In these close quarters, he finds his heart beating a little more quickly. It’s a complicated knot of emotion that settles in, lodged uncomfortably in his belly, to stay for awhile—friendship, fear, exhaustion, pain—and the night has been too fraught for him to probe any further than that into it, though he knows there is more beneath the surface. He puts it out of his mind. Right now Jonathan is his physician, seeing to his wounds, and that is simply that. Still, beneath the tumbled mess of his hair, his ears feel over-warm.
