my heart's on fire—anditsdefinitelynotbecauseofyou

Nairn watched her wearily, and when she clocked him, he stepped backwards, cupping his nose in his hands. Who the fuck taught you to punch like that? He grunted as he moved past her, to find a towel, not mindful of the fact he'd ruin the towel and anything else he touched until he washed his hands.

He stood over the sink, dabbing at his nose. It's home. He sighed, and once he felt like he was dripping less, he turned to face her, holding the towel to his face. I only ever wanted to leave because of you. His voice was quiet, It took me three years to be up and about. Another year to stop the old man from running it into the ground.

He paused, to check if his nose had stopped bleeding, and tenderly ran his fingers along it, testing to see if she'd broken it. I didn't want to bring you back here. I was always a criminal, but you... She'd always been too good for him. So many people had stated it; and they were right. This was his family. And hers. He tossed the dirtied towel in the sink, and leaned against the counter, staring at her.

D'ya feel better? That fuckin' hurt.