You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine

said i was the best simultaneously the worst

Her acceptance has him leaning in, taking her hand with his and watching as the glow of gold arrives to soothe the bulk of physical pain. Emotional pain is something he can’t touch, though, so she’s left with that rather than the bruising that would likely come from their little spar. It doesn’t take too long, though, and when the courtesan is done, he sinks back to sit a little more comfortable, able to breathe a little easier without the pain of his ribs in each breath.

He looks up at her as her gaze lands on him, able to feel it just before she speaks and sags into the cabinetry. “I’m not really a fighter.” So while it might help others to get the frustration out for fighting, Thorn’s always been the type to stray away from conflict. It’s why he has the job he does, why he has the scar on his chest. He hadn’t really fought then, either, even if he should have. And he didn’t have the healing magic to get the wound to heal the way he could now. So he’s left in a bit of a confusing mess as he shakes his head and draws his legs up, propping his elbows on it and runs a hand through his hair that he keeps there, ruffling his waves. “I dunno. Talkin’ about it. Like why y’thought I’d not wanna be there for you even if ya thought that you were losin’ your mind.”

Hawthorn

and best case scenario, i should be cursed