Marco is not a healer, he's barely capable of turning magic into this sort of energy. He's never been good at it but he knows how to do it in theory and a little bit in practise.
His eyes close as his brows furrow and--
The direct skin contact blows him open like a wound, he takes a deep breath, eyes flaring open, pupils blown wide and his gaze helplessly skinless, vulnerable but so open. He can sense everything about Kai. The iron dusting, every old wound, every drop of blood, every movement of his emotions, so very very clear and so liberating. It's like breathing again after struggling for breath for weeks, months, maybe years, his whole life...
"You--" he manages but that's all, flesh is knitting together under his fingers, skin scabbing over. It's like manoeuvring in a steam that is so much slower than him, knowing exactly where to touch and where not, avoiding iron. He stares at Kai, helplessly distracted by the pure sensation that is flooding through him.
no subject
His eyes close as his brows furrow and--
The direct skin contact blows him open like a wound, he takes a deep breath, eyes flaring open, pupils blown wide and his gaze helplessly skinless, vulnerable but so open. He can sense everything about Kai. The iron dusting, every old wound, every drop of blood, every movement of his emotions, so very very clear and so liberating. It's like breathing again after struggling for breath for weeks, months, maybe years, his whole life...
"You--" he manages but that's all, flesh is knitting together under his fingers, skin scabbing over. It's like manoeuvring in a steam that is so much slower than him, knowing exactly where to touch and where not, avoiding iron. He stares at Kai, helplessly distracted by the pure sensation that is flooding through him.