A hiss slipped out from between clenched teeth as Octavian pressed the cloth to his back. The smell was familiar, as was the burn, alcohol. He hadn't wanted to use it because of how hard it was to use since his wounds where on his back. Not to mention he didn't keep it in his room and buying it before he went to work would draw the ire of Commander Hawk. That was the last thing he wanted. He wasn't sure how much more he could take of the man's wraith. How long it would be before he slipped up and the man whipped him to death, like an old mule? It wasn't as though he could leave. He had no where to go. His parents where long dead and he belonged to the city till he paid off the debt for raising him. So ten years worth of work.<br/><br/>He was only two in.<br/><br/>With a shove he put the thought and the pain out of his mind. Instead focusing on the gentle way Octavian cleaned his cuts. The way his hand had trailed over one of the scars on his back. It felt good. He couldn't help but lean back against the other's hand, it probably didn't help with the cleaning or bandaging but it felt good. As had the concern in his voice. The sympathy. He hadn't seen Byron's back and immediately asked what he'd done wrong. Instead he sounded upset, maybe even angry over it. No one did that. No one. Even though it was cold and it stung he didn't want the moment to stop.<br/><br/>When Octavian pulled back his hand Byron tried to chased the contact, at least until leaning back more would have ended with him falling in Octavian's lap.<br/><br/>"They are pretty, very pretty," Byron said his lips giving a tiny twitch, a smile though it'd be hard for Octavian to see given how the other was behind him. Octavian had liked his compliment. Which meant as much to him as the other liking the watch, "I...I didn't know you couldn't hear well. I'm not talking too quiet am I? I dislike loud things,"<br/><br/>That was a mess. He didn't want it to be hard for Octavian to hear him. Though he seemed to have heard everything so far, which was good. Byron didn't yell, he was never loud. It drew too much attention. Not to mention people where loud all the time. Yell and screaming. Shouting. Normally because they where mad at him. Or they thought that just because he was quiet he was not paying attention. He was always watching people's hands, faces, for any sign they where going to hit him. But it wasn't like that with Octavian. He was quiet and soft. Pretty as a flower too.<br/><br/>Maybe the next thing he should bring the other is a hair pin. A flower in lavender. It'd look good on him...but that would probably be silly. Then again he'd liked the watch.<br/><br/>He turned his head just enough to look over his shoulder at Octavian. The horns seeming to glitter in the lamp light. He wanted to turn around and touch them but...would that be rude to ask? Should he not say anything or...<br/><br/>"Your horns are pretty too," And that'd come from no where. He was going to sound like an idiot again but...Octavian had liked his other compliment. Maybe if he kept giving them the other wouldn't go away. He would keep coming back and Byron wouldn't be so lonely. Nor would he have to patch his wounds alone anymore.<br/><br/>Which brought his mind back to his back.<br/><br/>"And thank you...for helping me. It wasn't part of our deal but...thank you," Why where his thoughts and words all over the place?