Ezra sank his teeth into Oberyn's curse mark and dutifully drained out his tainted mana in silence. The Nephilim, shirtless and stilted, sat perfectly still until Ezra was finished.
"Thank you," he said. His voice was a bit softer than before, but still lacked the warm emotion that Ezra realized he'd grown far too accustomed to.
He rose from the bed, rolling his shoulders to get out some of the lingering discomfort of his curse.
And then, he stepped toward the door.
"You're leaving?" Ezra asked, his eyes wide.
"I'll be back. Gonna go hang out with Rav a little more. You need rest."
The door opened and closed before Ezra could get out a single word.
He slumped back down into the mattress and stared at the ceiling.
"Damn it, Oberyn…why are you always so stubborn?"
He absent-mindedly flicked through his System, trying to get his mind off the fight - if he could even consider it a fight.
