He does not have to look back to know Alistair is making one of his many, many faces. Probably one part kicked puppy and two parts hopeful, with a dash of guilt in the mix. It's all in the eyebrows, truly, and Zevran cannot bear to look at it. He did this to himself. He cannot bear the consequences and Alistair's guilt.
Of course it might be easier to bear than his gratitude.
Habit, honestly, had him move. He had endured too much for too long (in his mind) to allow some fool Crow with more daggers than good sense to cut Alistair's throat. An instinct he's never shaken himself of, after that year of doing the same, putting himself between the blade and Jonas, the blade and Alistair. It's the only reason he managed and for a brief, visceral moment, he loathes himself for it. Hates himself more for thinking it'd be an even trade, his eye, Alistair's life.
Tense under Alistair's hand but. He turns, bandage covering his scars and eye. "...You never did learn to watch your flank."
An olive branch of a sort. Something to make this less tense, so he could sleep.
no subject
Of course it might be easier to bear than his gratitude.
Habit, honestly, had him move. He had endured too much for too long (in his mind) to allow some fool Crow with more daggers than good sense to cut Alistair's throat. An instinct he's never shaken himself of, after that year of doing the same, putting himself between the blade and Jonas, the blade and Alistair. It's the only reason he managed and for a brief, visceral moment, he loathes himself for it. Hates himself more for thinking it'd be an even trade, his eye, Alistair's life.
Tense under Alistair's hand but. He turns, bandage covering his scars and eye. "...You never did learn to watch your flank."
An olive branch of a sort. Something to make this less tense, so he could sleep.