Bones had been over Jim’s body enough times. To run a derm regen here and apply a hypo there. He knew where to place a soothing palm behind his neck and where two fingers to the side of his arm would anchor him without making him feel trapped. He figured he knew it all well enough, and better than most. So when he was making sure Jim’s dislocated shoulder hadn’t had any other damage he let out a confused grunt at the faded and splintered looking letters that could barely be seen just above his shoulder blade.
“Jim, what is this?” He asked, and Jim’s eye flickered as far back over his shoulder as possible, “What’s what?” he asked.
Lannisters always pay their debts.
- Lift leg over back of chair
- Resume eye contact
- Carry on the conversation as if you didn’t just sit down in the most boss way possible
A little suffering’s good for the soul.
“Well, I’m a 32-year-old man,” he says, and half-covers a not-so-bashful grin with his hand. “I feel like it’s always springtime.”
Where is Éomer? For my eyes darken, and I would see him ere I go. He must be king after me.