Don't Go

"Don't go." Killorn released a slight groan, covering his eyes with his knuckles, a grimace of pain flashing upon his rogue features. Even in the midst of his agony, he commanded attention with his rugged charisma. "Everything still hurts, Ophelia."

Ophelia panicked, leaning closer to her husband, palm resting upon his chest. She peered down at his chiseled face and body, marked with tales of victories. His broad shoulders were accentuated by his tunic, his soft lips pressed together.

"W-where," Ophelia demanded, pressing against him.

"Everywhere," Killorn complained, wrapping his freed arm around her. "I need you here with me."

Ophelia's heart softened as she worriedly nodded her head. "W-would you like more b-blood—"

"No, just you."

Ophelia blinked in confusion. "A-after I help the people downstairs—"