[ A clean cold towel carefully changed every half hour. Fingers pressed against his wrist to register his pulse when the task is complete. His trip to the bathroom to wash the used towel before ringing out the water. He returns to the room then, and sets the towel in front of the crackling fire to dry. No more than ten minutes pass before he's back at his side again to check his temperature and breathing, at which point, it's impossible to ignore the withering mass of feathers.
Shouto looks upon the frenzy with concern in his mismatched eyes. He settles down beside him, letting his fingers skim through his hair, allowing himself this one indulgence before addressing what cannot be ignored, and buries his worry in the cold. Steady eyes fall to the feather-like protrusions emitting from what seems like a wound in his stomach. He sets a bandaged hand above the mass of feathers that remind him so much of his cloak and cools the air around him. There's no ice, simply a drop in temperature that seems to slow their movements. In the aftermath, Allen seems to rest easier, which spurs him to keep up the cooling touch until the next half hour hits and he begins anew, marked by the grandfather clock that chimes twice an hour.
He's made a routine of this in the hours that pass. Between the moment he sets Allen down on the bed to when he opens his eyes to find Shouto with his back to him, carefully adding another log to the fire with his bare hands. When he stands and turns around, he freezes in place at the unnerving golden eyes that looked nothing like the stormy grey he knew so well. ]
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Shouto looks upon the frenzy with concern in his mismatched eyes. He settles down beside him, letting his fingers skim through his hair, allowing himself this one indulgence before addressing what cannot be ignored, and buries his worry in the cold. Steady eyes fall to the feather-like protrusions emitting from what seems like a wound in his stomach. He sets a bandaged hand above the mass of feathers that remind him so much of his cloak and cools the air around him. There's no ice, simply a drop in temperature that seems to slow their movements. In the aftermath, Allen seems to rest easier, which spurs him to keep up the cooling touch until the next half hour hits and he begins anew, marked by the grandfather clock that chimes twice an hour.
He's made a routine of this in the hours that pass. Between the moment he sets Allen down on the bed to when he opens his eyes to find Shouto with his back to him, carefully adding another log to the fire with his bare hands. When he stands and turns around, he freezes in place at the unnerving golden eyes that looked nothing like the stormy grey he knew so well. ]
... Allen?