Though Will was thankful for the effects of runes in the midst of a fight, that was about as far as his appreciation for them extended. The way they seared his skin and left behind twisted scars that were only beneficial in how they made people wary of him if he ever left his arms exposed. He much preferred human languages, the way that words flowed over the page of a novel or poetry dripped from the pretty lips of a stranger. Words were something that Will could appreciate, yes, but not when he had to sit still and have them essentially branded onto his body.
"You're taking too long," he countered, just as casual even as he relaxed his arm and let Jem maneuver it. His gaze flickered between the tip of the stele and Jem's eyes, intent on Will's arm where he worked. Will clicked his tongue against his teeth at the rather flashy conclusion to the mark on his arm, unable to hold back a smirk at the disparity between Jem's calm nature and the obvious pride he held in his runes. "As I recall," he said, not bothering to roll down his shirt sleeve since it was tattered and useless, "I told you that I didn't care."
And he hadn't, not due to any lack of concern for the danger—though, admittedly, that had something to do with it—but rather because he believed that they could handle a simple demon hunt. Even though they were young, both of them were capable fighters able to watch each other's backs. Maybe Jem had lost a few things and maybe it had resulted in Will requiring an iratze, but in every other sense, they had been successful. In the end, they hadn't caused so much damage that they couldn't enjoy the rest of the evening in the park together. Will let his arm drop as Jem released it, and he rolled the wrist that threatened to go stiff from being held still for so long. Feeling Jem's gaze on him, he looked up at noted the weariness in Jem's smile.
Figuring they could stay and rest a while, Will made a show of shifting around with a groan and leaning back against the tree. He pressed his shoulder against Jem's and yawned slightly, eyes falling partway shut. After a moment of Jem continuing to fidget, Will reached out to take the stele with one hand and replace it with another, fingers slipping between Jem's longer pianist's hands. "I'll buy you some new knives," he said, as close to an apology as he was likely to come.
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"You're taking too long," he countered, just as casual even as he relaxed his arm and let Jem maneuver it. His gaze flickered between the tip of the stele and Jem's eyes, intent on Will's arm where he worked. Will clicked his tongue against his teeth at the rather flashy conclusion to the mark on his arm, unable to hold back a smirk at the disparity between Jem's calm nature and the obvious pride he held in his runes. "As I recall," he said, not bothering to roll down his shirt sleeve since it was tattered and useless, "I told you that I didn't care."
And he hadn't, not due to any lack of concern for the danger—though, admittedly, that had something to do with it—but rather because he believed that they could handle a simple demon hunt. Even though they were young, both of them were capable fighters able to watch each other's backs. Maybe Jem had lost a few things and maybe it had resulted in Will requiring an iratze, but in every other sense, they had been successful. In the end, they hadn't caused so much damage that they couldn't enjoy the rest of the evening in the park together. Will let his arm drop as Jem released it, and he rolled the wrist that threatened to go stiff from being held still for so long. Feeling Jem's gaze on him, he looked up at noted the weariness in Jem's smile.
Figuring they could stay and rest a while, Will made a show of shifting around with a groan and leaning back against the tree. He pressed his shoulder against Jem's and yawned slightly, eyes falling partway shut. After a moment of Jem continuing to fidget, Will reached out to take the stele with one hand and replace it with another, fingers slipping between Jem's longer pianist's hands. "I'll buy you some new knives," he said, as close to an apology as he was likely to come.