The intensity of the silence that surrounded them was deafening. They'd had their fun and now it was time to face the unforeseen consequences of it. Syryn was still seated against the wall, pants unfastened, and a distant look in his eyes.
Rowan placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Ryn, tell me, what's on your mind?"
"I'd rather not."
Syryn had wanted this. Having had it, he was unwilling to let go. How did he ever think that it was possible to let go of Rowan after experiencing what they had?
"Please," It was a soft sound that melted all the ice in Syryn's gaze.
"Your clavicle is fractured. Does it not hurt?" He asked instead.
Rowan smiled, "a little. Will you fix me up?"
Why did Rowan look so happy whenever Syryn was checking on his health? "Already am. You'll need a sling for that arm."
"I dont think it's necessary-"
