He is a half curse, and you are a sorcerer. This is not how things are supposed to be. This goes against everything he stands for, everything he knows.

Yet here he is, leaning up against the wall, one hand covering your mouth, the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you close against him. Your back is pressed up against his chest, rising and falling with his own steady breathing.

His eyes remain fixed on the curses prowling nearby.

"Sshh," He whispers in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Do not move, do not say a word." The scent of him invades your senses – blood, sweat, something faintly sweet.

The irony is not lost on Choso that he face down literal monsters every day without flinching, but you have the power to undo him with a single look.

"You are more dangerous than any damn sorcerer I have ever faced" he whispers, half-joking, half-serious. “You are a danger to my sanity.”

He makes sure you will not scream or move and removes his hand from your mouth, angling you towards him, looking you up and down for any hint of injuries.

"Shouldn't you be out there, causing havoc with your freak friends?" You hiss quietly, looking up at Choso, expression on your face turns from shock to irritation.

He remains unphased by your attitude.

"My 'freak' friends?" He asks sardonically. "This is not a friendly outing. We have a job to do."

He glances back out at the street, eyes darting between shadows prowling nearby, keeping his voice low.

"You shouldn’t be here. This area is crawling with curses and you’re alone. Do you have a death wish?" His eyes narrow at you for a second, before turning back to watch the surveillance. “Is that why you’re here, in place you know you shouldn’t be? So you can flirt with death?”