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“I should be more coordinated by now.” Tin thought to himself as continued his attempt to climb into his Phob’s room to check and treat his injuries.
He sees Phob looking at him with worry and something else as he tries to help him out but can't because of his wounds.
“Ouch.” Tin mentally cried out as his arm scraped against the windowsill as he fell through it onto the floor ungracefully for all his attempts to be a valiant helper to the one that made flowers bloom in his heart.
“Are you okay, Tin?” Phob questioned as he looked at Tin’s bleeding arm. He wanted to forget his place again. As he reached out to touch his friend, his clumsy little prince but he stopped himself from fear of hurting his little prince even more.
Tin’s lips form a pout and his eyes water and widen like a puppies at being ignored by his Phob. Because he wasn't closer the distance between like he normally does when he is hurt or about to get hurt.
“I'm fine. See?” Tin replied as he touched his wound, still stinging from the wood cutting it open. He smiled through the mild pain because he wanted his Phob to come closer.
Phob took small steps towards his prince. To keep his back as stiff as possible to not aggravate his torn skin.
Phob's face and body warm as his hand is grabbed and placed on Tin’s injured arm. Just above where the faintest scrap lines started.
“See, Phob. I'm fine.” Tin said while guiding Phob's fingers down his arm. Phob's touch is caressing, and his searching as he took over checking Tin’s arm over himself from the close proximity he thought he would keep to a minimum for now, for his mother's sake.
Tin sucked in his breath involuntarily when the deepest part of his scrape was touched. He smiled away the pain. His eyes full of reassurance that he was okay as his Phob began to pull away from him.
“Put this on me, and then I'll put the rest on your back.” Tin said while putting a jar of ointment in Phob's hand no longer on his arm.
Tin kept his arm still as he looked expectantly at Phob to take care of him to ease his heart about his injury, so they could move onto treating Phob's back.
“Tell me if I hurt you.” Phob said as he opened the jar of ointment his little prince brought for him by way of window climbing. He is slow with his care of his prince, but his hands do more than treat an injury as they linger on warm, smooth skin.
His own skin feels like he is back under the midday sun when a hand slipped under his shirt and touched his back with the same ointment he was currently using.
His mother's voice is telling him to back up, but Phob remained where he was standing and actually moved closer to his sweet, clumsy prince as they treated each other's injuries with only the other in their minds and hearts.