Salvation of The Scum Fifth Prince

[61 - remember; sinking realization]

When he awoke, he didn't know where he was.

Blearily, the dark eyes slowly opened, peering at the dimmed skies. It was the sort of light that didn't feel like night, but as if day was clouded in a delicate veil, preventing the light from shining through properly.

He turned his head from where he laid on the rocky grounds, greeted with rows and rows of broken buildings, shards of shattered rocks and the familiar stench of death.

"You're awake."

An indifferent voice said carelessly as the protagonist spun his head to the side. Perched upon a pile of fragments was a cloaked figure, mysterious raven eyes peering at him.

Raphael blinked. He was perceptive and typically aware of his surroundings — decades of battle had drilled it into him — but this person had gone unnoticed. Quiet and watching, like a shadow blending in with shade but always existing.

He propped himself up by the elbows, stretching his arm into the air before sitting upright. To the robed man's confusion, his mind was clear and expression calm.

In fact, he even offered a smile.

"You're the one who helped me, weren't you?"

There was a hint of dislike in the voice. "You interrupted my sleep. Again."

Again?

So this was a person he knew, concluded Raphael. Somebody he knew fairly well, if this seemingly uncaring person would save him regardless of the disinterest that clouded their tone.

Raphael's lip quirked. "And yet you helped me anyway?"

"....." They paused, and Raphael thought he could almost see the scowl even hidden under the shadows. "It was so you could leave my area sooner."

"Really?"

"Really."

Raphael's gaze was piercing, seeming to dig through souls as if the other was laid bare before him. The figure shifted their gaze, adjusting their position into a more comfortable one.

"You're fine now?" asked the person, moving until a glimpse of a hand was seen.

The protagonist thought vaguely, that the hand was inexplicably pretty. From the glimpse of hard-earned scars that ran along the edges, covered in dirt and grim, likely from the world's situations, he found it lovely.

A strange thing to think, but he thought it anyway. Perhaps his eyes were drawn because the rest of this person was disguised, that a single whisper of appearance would have a more startling impact.

Not to mention the irritating familiarity that had bugged him since he opened his eyes.

"I'm fine, yeah."

"Then leave." The tone left no room for argument.

But of course, that only made him want to argue harder. "I don't really feel like leaving, though? Not to mention, I think my injury hurts."

The figure stood up, approaching him carefully at his words and Raphael blinked in surprise before allowing them to do so. His body was raked over by those curious black eyes, and upon seeing no injury, the other frowned.

Raphael could make out the expression a little more now.

"Ridiculous."

The other smiled lazily. ¨It's obviously under my clothes. Do you want to see?¨

The dark eyes squint at Raphael with evident disgust. "You are like..."

"Like?"

"...a hippo." finished the cloaked man confidently, and he too, kindly decided to explain the reason. "Cute and round on the outside, viscous and dangerous on the inside."