abjurer | [Sanctum Inbox]

"...I knew you learned something from me." She huffs a soft laugh, tension easing out just a bit. He can handle this his way and she, she'll support him as best she's able. She lifts his hand to her lips, kissing the back.

"That will work wonderfully. Set them to the wolves. After all no one cares whta you do so long as you do not get caught. When you are caught..."

"I learnt from the best," he agrees, smiling warmly at her. He's lucky that he has people supporting him like this.

"When you're caught, it doesn't matter if you get out of it if everyone you know has already made up their mind about you."

"That's my boy." She murmurs, turning his hand to press another kiss to his skin. "I'll find you an appropriate guard. It'll be someone unobtrusive and very, very pretty. I promise."

He has to laugh at that, his cheeks colouring faintly at the kiss. She is one of the few people able to make him feel entirely inelegant and awkward. "Oh you do know what to say to persuade me," he replies. "Pretty people who could kick my arse."

"It's why you always loved watching the Militia boys train, mm?" And the occasional lady, but boys were so very pretty when they were sweating and grunting.

Max grinned, closing his eyes at the memory. "Who wouldn't? All those push ups." Well worth going over to the base to watch.

"The shirtless jogging, the wrestling..." She murmurs, sighing. "The water breaks."

Max gives a happy sigh. "The stretching. Whoever decided wrestling was something they should learn was a good person."

"I may have been sending their drill sergeant wine and fruit baskets for awhile." And by may she meant she most certainly did.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you. I have you to thank then, for all the awkward teenage wake ups."

"You are welcome for all the erections, darling." She kisses his hand again, glad for him to be a little more himself and a little less- well. An injured man in trauma.

He laughs a little at that, and lets out a soft sigh. "Thanks Adele. For- for coming to see me. It means a lot. I don't have that many friends these days it seems."

"Because your old friends are idiots. But you will always have me, Max. I promise." It takes more than a change of opinion to change hers.

"And I'm an idiot for trusting them." It seemed obvious in retrospect. "I'm just glad you're here. You deserve to know that."

"No, Max. You were being kind. Foolish, but kind." She strokes his cheek gently. "I am glad you are recovering."

He leans into the touch, smiling. "From being injured? Or from being foolish and kind?"

"From injury. I hope you are able to remain foolish and kind as long as possible." It's good that he's managed for this long.

"I think it's because I have good people watching over me." People who were sometimes willing to be less kind. It makes him a little sad honestly. "I just feel like I should have grown up."

"Being kind does not make you childish, Max." To hell with it. She slips out of her chair and curls up against him, arm looped loosely around his waist, cheek on top of his head. "It makes you kind. We need more of that under the dome."

He looks surprised when she climbs onto the bed next to him, but it makes it easier for him to relax, curled close against her. It's comforting. "I don't want to get anyone hurt because I was too naive to see the truth."

"The only person you've gotten hurt is you. And so long as I find you a proper guard, that won't be a problem." She'll find him the best. The quickest, the cleverest, the strongest. Her fingers smooth through his hair in soft, soothing passes. "I'll take care of it, max. Don't I always?"

"I have done that pretty spectacularly," he replies with a wry smile. It feels nice when she does that. A warm and friendly gesture. Nothing manipulative of expectant about it. "You do," he says, and maybe he's too trusting, but he's not been given any reason not to trust her. "You always take care of me."

"You're too pretty for me to ignore." The usual excuse and at one point? That had been all it was. But he's clever, is Max. Clever and kind and there's far, far too few people like that in her life. He grounds her. Reminds her that all the remaining world isn't like Monet. She sighs and tangles their legs, glad for the contact. For him. "I do not have so many friends that I would lose you gladly. I'm selfish that way."

Max snickers at that. He doesn't feel pretty right now, but it's a salve to his ego to hear it. "I am. I am absolutely the prettiest Onekid." Even with the bruises and cracked ribs.

He tilts his head, looks over at her. "That's not selfish, Adele. That's just being human. We need friends. We cling to them because they make us real."

"Shh." It hits a little too close to home, that. Enough to have her murmuring soft, sweet nothings as she strokes his cheek. "Rest. Mm? I'll be here when you wake up."

He does feel pretty exhausted right now, he has to admit. "Okay. Thanks. For coming to see me."

Hs up against her, closing his eyes.

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