Page 63 of The Hunter's Empire

I busy myself with opening the antiseptic bottle as if nothing happened. As if I didn't feel the sudden warmth creeping up my neck.

When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter than before. "Nico."

The single word sounds different coming from him.

I finally glance up. "It slipped out."

"Did it?"

"Don't make it weird."

His smile only grows. "I wasn't planning to. But now that you've mentioned it..."

"Nico."

His laugh is low and entirely too pleased with himself. "See? You did it again."

I hate the fact that he's enjoying this. Even worse, I hate the fact that I suddenly can't bring myself to call him anything else.

"Stop smiling."

"I can't."

I decide very quickly that continuing this conversation is a mistake.

Before he can say anything else, I reach for the medical supplies and move closer to inspect the wound properly.

"Try not to enjoy this part quite as much." I mutter.

I step between his knees to get a better look at the wound. The moment my fingers brush against his arm, he goes quiet. Not tense. Just watchful. As if he's more interested in observing me than the injury itself.

"You looked very pleased with yourself this morning." Nico says, watching me far too closely.

I dab the antiseptic against the wound before replying. "You imagined it."

"I didn't."

"You did."

His eyes narrow slightly. "You smiled."

"People smile all the time."

"Not after shooting someone."

I lift my gaze and give him a flat look. "It was an accident."

"Sure it was, Elf."

I don't bother responding to the nickname. At this point, it has become such a regular part of our conversations that arguing about it feels pointless. Instead, I focus on cleaning the wound, carefully working the antiseptic around the edges of the graze before checking that the bleeding has finally started to slow.

The injury really is minor. A few more inches and it would've been serious, but as it stands, it looks worse than it actually is.

For a moment, silence settles between us. Comfortable. Dangerously comfortable. And that's exactly what bothers me.

Nico watches me secure the bandage around his arm, his expression somewhere between amusement and disbelief as I pull the gauze a little tighter than strictly necessary. He notices immediately but instead of complaining, he simply shakes his head and lets out a low laugh.

"I suppose I should be used to you invading my privacy by now." He says casually.