You'd expect most young men to have a polished resume of their conquests, be them of the debauchery committed with their friends, or those committed in someone's bed. I had a very small compiled list of women I had genuinely preferred, instead of simply accepting the warm body and companionship or intimacy it provided. The other list? Yeah, I don't know. I don't think it's worth referencing, analyzing, or continuing to ruminate over considering the lack of importance of the various names littering the bullet points. I couldn't tell you the stories behind the names, unless there was a darker reason they existed on any list of mine, anyway. The blatant truth was I found intimacy in a far different venue than most; I much preferred the company of sharp edges and dark alleys than the feminine curves all but flaunted obviously for my approval. Does that come from having sisters? Or does that come from being respectful? Either way, I found home in the word chauvinism occasionally, but above all, a woman with kind heart, good intentions, and some inkling of intelligence deserved equality and respect.

Morality always seems to surface at the wrong times. A lot of me, most of me, wanted to relish in the feeling of Serafina's feather-soft kisses against my skin and how she tenderly continued about solving my injuries, whether she wanted to be as tender as she was or not. The rest of me suggested that like I had been debating before, I should have gone to the hospital and left the poor girl out of the equation. I had done enough damage, bringing another into what I typically did alone; she didn't deserve the unwanted attention that Frank might have brought her. She didn't deserve the unwanted attention that my presence generally brought, too. I had had half a mind to stop the healing process and leave to get my hip looked at, at the hospital but I felt rooted. No physical part of me wanted to move, and if I was being honest, I was enjoying her brittle attempts to hold dominance over me and keep me seated. Her attempt in branding my neck (okay, maybe not even attempt but success) had kept me amused, and with her retort that I was more than welcome to show her some of the wicked ways I wanted brand her nearly had me squirming. With a soft laugh, I shook my head when she rested her forehead against my shoulder, acknowledging the discontent in her voice when I brushed off her attempted claim, all the while debating what exactly I could do with my hands to keep them from gently ducking beneath the hem of her shirt to rest on the skin of her lower back, the other - ... Maybe I should have sat on them.

" I'll let it slide this time," I relinquished the feigned horror at the hickey that was more than likely on my neck. "Imagine you have some of those mythological customers you were talking about; how is this going to look?" I couldn't keep the grin from intruding into my voice.

When matters returned to the last of the immediate wounds, I ran my tongue over my teeth to attempt to keep it in check. I had injured that hip numerous times, was there a potion that might be able to repair the historical pounding it's taken? Curiously, I tilted my head as she got up to work on her next salve with the cryptic words that this one might be stronger. Like what, acid? Was this fucking creation going to be something out of a Sci-Fi movie where it ate away at the flesh like a fucking Frankenstein-zombie-mutant-hybrid cream? My nose wrinkled at the prospect, rearranging my face into the petulant-child expression that she had been met with before. I hadn't truly doubted her abilities, not entirely, but her snide assurance that the salve would work reminded me that there was a self-confidence in her tone that only came with historical successes.

"I think it about time my information withholding is over."

My voice was soft, almost as if to begin bracing myself for the promise of a stronger salve. The first had hurt like flesh burning from the inside out, but what would this do? I wanted to suggest a great number of ways of distraction, but the words were far from my lips. It was high time this was over, no matter how much I would have enjoyed letting her do whatever it was that might be her idea of a distraction. Her suggestion of needing better access drew a short laugh, especially as she turned around pointedly. Privacy concerns? I think the laugh was more for myself, as I shrugged and with the hand that had been healed effectively, wiggled out of my jeans. I slipped my t-shirt back on in the process as well, the action pointedly reminding her that although I might have bad intentions very often, I was not here to take advantage of her genuine efforts to help what was stupidity on my part.

"You will have to let me know what I owe you, yeah?" I had wondered what this would cost out of curiosity, with no real regard for monetary means. There were all kinds of things I did to make an "ends meet", with the ever present ability to find whatever money I might need through my affinity with precious metals and gems. "Assuming you're going to discount for unprofessional conduct." The half hearted attempt of humor died quickly as I sat back down, awaiting the last installment of the salve. "And Sera?" head tilted slightly, speaking earnestly with a quiet voice. " I really do appreciate this."