He doesn't see the demon until its blade flicks his own blood on his hands. With a grunt, Pavonis drops to his knees, eyes glowing as he smites the demon. Blood drips in a steady stream from the cut running parallel to his shoulders.
The ash from combustion blows over him as he presses on the (obviously poisoned) gash under his collarbone. Pavo hears his squad approaching and fires off a flare of magic above him before toppling to the side.
He wakes up in the infirmary, hair braided back in the careful way that Avior always does it. Bandages cover his upper torso, the canvas-like strips itching when he moves. The only blood on them is long dried.
Sitting up slowly, Pavo surveys the room he's in. Standard really, white walls and a cot, but for the chair and it's occupant next to him. Avi is asleep, face pressed to the bed. He can feel short puffs of breath through the blanket covering his legs.
Pavonis reaches a hand out and threads it into Avior's curls, mussing them. His boyfriend starts awake, sitting up quickly and lunging forward, capturing Pavo in a hug.
"I was so worried," Avi mumbles to the top of Pavonis' head.
"There weren't supposed to be any guards. It surprised all of us."
"I know. But I was most worried about you, not those nasty demons and their pseudo-organisation."
Pavo leans back, softly taking in the concern etched into Avior's every feature. He removes his hand from the other's blond curls, placing it gently on Avi's cheek.
"I'm okay."
"I know."
