Loreen's POV
Loreen had told himself, when he first saw the mark on Sairis's arm, that it was perhaps nothing. A knock against a shelf, a door frame caught at the wrong angle.
He had told himself that even as he reached for it, because the alternative was something that was going to make him very difficult to be around.
But looking at it now, properly, with Sairis's sleeve pushed back and the evening light coming through the window, there was no mistaking the shape of it.
Four distinct marks on one side and a wider mark on the other. Someone's hand. Someone had put their hand on Sairis and gripped hard enough to leave that behind.
Loreen was not okay about that. He was furious. The things he would do to that person once he found them.
"Loreen," Sairis said. "It is fine."
It was very obviously not fine. Loreen took a long breath through his nose and let it out slowly. "Sit down," he said.
