"You just said supposed to.." Moying said quietly.
Limo pressed the tape down along the edge of the gauze and smoothed it carefully, taking longer than necessary.
He couldn't explain it.
He had met Alphas his entire life and felt nothing beyond the natural friction of two people built similarly occupying the same space. It was biology, it was chemistry, it was the way the world worked.
Two Alphas weren't drawn to each other, they competed, they circled, they kept a respectful distance.
And yet here he was, struggling to maintain a perfectly reasonable one.
"You should rest," Limo said, sitting back. "Your face needs time."
Moying looked at him for a long moment, that same open expression, not pushing, not retreating, just there and honest and waiting.
"Okay," he said finally, softly.
