[A reasonable man would maybe pause and give more consideration to that offer of magic than Alec, because a Cure materia in the hands of the right person would staunch the eking flow of blood faster and more efficiently than a first-aid kit. But Rufus is tied up by his pride, not caring for excess aid if he can get by with the bare minimum. Alec is that bare minimum, apparently, and Rufus doesn’t say or do anything more than follow, waving the guard aside as if to decline his offer.
He doesn’t miss Alec’s admission of being poor with magic, but he isn’t inclined to question it, having no real reason to. Rufus follows, pushing his pace to save face, ice-eyes fixed ahead, too stubborn to fall too far behind, and too unwilling to accept the fact that the other man is probably slowing his step for his sake.]
So was this the day you were expecting to— [He bites back a wince.] —have? I’m nothing if not exciting.
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He doesn’t miss Alec’s admission of being poor with magic, but he isn’t inclined to question it, having no real reason to. Rufus follows, pushing his pace to save face, ice-eyes fixed ahead, too stubborn to fall too far behind, and too unwilling to accept the fact that the other man is probably slowing his step for his sake.]
So was this the day you were expecting to— [He bites back a wince.] —have? I’m nothing if not exciting.