Up close, he noticed things he had never bothered to look at before: the scattered moles on his neck, the sharp cut of his jaw, the smoothness of his skin despite the strain he constantly carried. His eyelashes were unfairly long, dark against the pale bandage, and the shape of his cheekbones was almost delicate. Even the veins along his forearm were strangely elegant, catching the dim light as he loosened his grip on the water bottle he'd gotten for himself.
Kenneth clicked his tongue quietly, irritated at himself for noticing any of this. He wasn't someone who got distracted by a pretty face, least of all his.
He cleared his throat and set the bottle down on the bedside table. "It's fine," he said, the words almost too gentle for his liking. He forced a firmer note into his voice. "Had it been something I didn't want to do, I could've easily beaten the shit out of you. Just…don't do that again without giving me a warning."
