Her boots were so heavy, her joints so stiff as they walked in the corridors.
"Belfire, you should-," she started.
"I'm going to bed, Phe," he shook his head. "I'm not bleeding anymore and it's still going to be there in the morning."
She saw that blood all down his arm, her face going tight, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"You should-," she said, but he turned to glare at her, his face scrunched up in a scowl, and then he opened her door, waiting for her to come inside and he closed it behind her, the light in his eyes so dark, so dark and cold and sharp she didn't know what to do.
"Here," he said, holding up that fruit knife and handing it to her. "Help me get my shirt off, it itches."
She stared at him a moment, knowing that he should go to the Infirmary, but not knowing how to make him. Finally she sighed, taking that knife off him and jerking her head towards her bunk. When he looked up at her then, the light in his eyes went a little softer, something like a smile on his lips when he said, "You did well. They'll all be talking about you now."
"It was a dumb trick," she sighed, kneeling in front of him.
"You may be the first slave to shoot a Master and get away with it," he nodded, but then he hissed as she pulled at the corner of his shirt. She didn't know why, but that hiss made her blood run cold and that burning flare back to life in the pit of her stomach.
"Keep still," she said, her voice so soft and quiet, and then her face was scrunching up in a frown as she sliced his shirt up as close to his wound as she could get it. She shook her head then, her eyes flicking up to stare at him. "You need to go to the Infirmary."
"Just get on with it, Phe."
"If I take this off now, it's going to reopen-,"
"It's fine," he cut in. "I'm done, Phe, no more tonight, I can't. I just want to sleep."
She tutted then, her skin so cold, her blood boiling as she peeled away what was left of his shirt, and he gasped, his face a tight wince, his eyes closing as fresh blood spilled down his front. She tutted again, pulling her cover off her pillow and pressing it to that hole in his chest, but it was like her body was humming, a strange sort of hum, one that started all the way down in her toes and made her hands shake.
"I should've shot him," she said, her voice so quiet and strained, but he laughed, a short, airy laugh, the corners of his lips twitching.
"I'd give you a hug right now, but I don't want to get you dirty."
She stared up at him, her skin somehow colder, her blood somehow hotter, that humming somehow stronger, and she leaned forward, resting her head on the side of his chest that wasn't hurt and feeling his arms around her. He was so warm, so warm and firm and she closed her eyes, his breath hot on the skin of her neck as he sighed, but he only held her for a moment before he sighed again, pulling away and shaking his head.
"What about you? How's your arm?" he asked.
"It's fine," she said, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper, but he sighed again, taking it in his hands and staring at it. It hurt when he touched, a wince springing to her face that she had to fight back, a wince that he seemed to notice and he nodded.
"You're going to have another bruise," he said, and then his eyes half-closed, the light in them going so soft and dim. "She was your friend, right? I'm sorry, Phe, I can't-,"
"She is my friend," Phoenix cut in, but that was all she could say before she had to clear her throat. "We grew up together… She's a few years older than me, she taught us a lot."
She wanted to tell him so much more, she wanted to tell him all the things Willow had done for her, that her father had done for her and Ash when their parents were taken, and Phoenix wanted to tell him how much she wanted to help Willow back, but suddenly she had no voice. She shook her head, standing and washing her hands in the sink, her heart so heavy and aching, and he cleared his throat, his voice a little soft and quiet when he asked, "Can I stay here tonight? I-, I don't want to be alone."
She turned to him, not knowing what to say, only knowing that she didn't want to be either, and she nodded. He was still with her in the morning, when her alarm didn't ring but their wristbands flashed, and he was still with her when they stood on that red carpet, staring at him leaning against his desk, his arms folded across his chest, those Implants flickering so lightly.
"You both did well last night," Master Gabriel said, but she didn't know what to say to that, her heart still so heavy, her mind racing with everything she'd learned, but he was in front of her then, his hand pulling another flask from his robe and holding it out to her. So slowly her hand reached up to take it, her eyes big and wide when he turned to Belfire and smiled. "That was your fault, you know?" he said. "You were supposed to be quicker."
Belfire's eyes went wide too before they narrowed into slits, his voice so tight and strained when he said, "You could've just let me know what you were planning."
"Why would I do that?" Master Gabriel asked, laughing and short, quiet laugh, his eyes flicking down to that armband still on his wrist. He pressed something into the panel and then he held his arm out towards Belfire, that armband shooting out a burst of mist that sealed the wound on his chest, and then he smiled again, his head tilting to the side. "You'll have to be quicker next time, I can't promise that won't happen again."
She stared at that armband, wanting to know what it was, wanting to know if the one she'd found back out in The Forests could do that too if she'd just known how to make it work, but then he was reaching for her, his thumb trailing down her cheek until he was grabbing at something around her neck. She heard that click, felt that metal loosen and give way, and then she saw that collar in his hand, her eyes going wide, her breath hitching in her chest. He smiled again, turning and dropping both of their collars onto his desk, her hand whipping up to trace the skin on her neck as she shook her head. She was a Favourite, not a Fighter, and so was Belfire. She turned, wanting to smile, wanting to gasp, but all she could do was stare.
"You don't know this, Phe, but to touch a Master without their permission is punishable by death, a public death if a slave does it," Master Gabriel nodded, leaning back against his desk and watching them. "Neither of you should ever be afraid of another Master, I'll protect you just like last night, especially if you're defending me."
Her eyes went so wide then, something like a weightlessness in the pit of her stomach. Just how close had she come to dying last night, just how close had Belfire? She turned, staring at him, her forehead lining in a crease. She hadn't known what she was risking, but he had and he'd still thrown himself at that arm and helped her.
"How?" Belfire asked, a sharpness, an edge to his voice as he stared at the Master. "They're so much higher up than you."
She watched that smile on Master Gabriel's lips grow, his head tilting to the side as he stared at Belfire. "That didn't matter last night."
"It was your house."
"You're right," Master Gabriel nodded. "Things will be different next time, but so will you. It's easier to defend Favourites, but I doubt something like that will happen again. They were also testing me, not just you."
Belfire stood a little straighter then, his eyes never blinking, his face so blank and stiff. "So we're Favourites?"
"Yes."
"No more Fights?"
"No, but you'll still train. I need you to look the part, Belfire, and do what you did last night if it comes down to it," Master Gabriel said, but Phoenix hadn't expected Belfire to laugh, a soft, easy laugh and shake his head.
"Get rid of Cassie," he said.