Cassius lets Doctor Hugh reposition his hand without a word, takes in the shuddering breath, the way his words falter, the slight – roll to his tone when he speaks. Cassius takes it all in and sets it aside for later (because there will be a later; he is too curious, too comfortable with Hugh’s heat for there not to be).

Instead he looks away, the ghost of a frown pulling down at his face, because – he does not know if he can promise that. Does not know if he can – stand aside and watch. If Doctor Hugh were to get hurt. If it were his Hunter - they would be fine, his Hunter has always been fine, has always tested their limits to newer and newer heights.

Cassius does not wish to know of Doctor Hugh’s limits. Wishes to test them even less. Still. Still -

Doctor Hugh has never sounded so… small. Has never used that tone with Cassius – not even when he had been held up by the throat.

(he does not like it)

“...I will try,” Cassius says finally, the drone of him just a whisper under his voice, his squirm stuttering into Doctor Hugh’s warmth with anxiety. He draws his eyes back, gaze solemn. “I cannot promise you that I will not act if you are hurt, Doctor Hugh, but – I will try. For you. Because you are my friend.”