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Blue blood trickled from Zelgadis’ lips as he coughed, and he felt more of it oozing around the rocky scales in his arcane flesh. Dizzy, he tried to stand, and he faltered.
A pair of gloved hands steadied him.
“Xelloss?”
The priest smiled, slipping his arm under his shoulders and bearing most of Zel’s weight for him.
Zelgadis felt his breath catch in his chest as he leaned into the mazoku. He was sure they’d never touched before in anything but anger or violence.
Part of Zel wanted to push him away like always, but he leaned into him instead.
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