the sun's gentle glow dips below the barren horizon, wool picnic blanket beneath the both of you a warm grate against your raw palm. "let me see it," ray mutters, the chestnut of his kind eyes finding your own. "got gauze in my pack."

road burn; the result of molten pavement on fleshy skin. ray's hands, soft in their own touch, encapsulate yours: careful in a caress that was ray's and his only. he flashes the crooked spacing of his teeth in a quiet grin, gentle eyes observant of the jagged tear.

"had a spill back there, huh?" you murmur an unintelligible noise akin to a softened "sorry," to which ray clicks his tongue in response. auburn hair stuck to the sheen of his round face, his thin mouth parts in concentration while he wraps your hand with clumsy precision. trembling.

it was meant to be a picnic. that's what garraty had promised, at least; though the setting of the sleepy sun and the stiff dead grass beneath your crisscrossed legs has other plans. having bolted ahead, you'd stumbled---a clumsiness which ray had always seemed admittedly fond of---and sustained a minor injury in return.

garraty secures the too-tight bandage with nervous fingertips, freckled face a soft solace beneath the ever-present spattering of stars.