“Yeah, okay,” Lorenzo grumbled. “I’ll work on the nano bot design tonight. See if I can get something
together. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Frankie assured him. “I’ll pick you and Amy up right on time, I promise.”
Lorenzo gathered his things and made to leave, nervously teetering by the door. “You need anything,
you call me,” he said, giving Snod a nasty look as he added, “And you... if anything happens to
Frankie? I don’t care if a comet falls down from the sky and hits him, I’m blaming you. And I will
make you pay for it. Dearly.”
Snod growled, Lorenzo quickly slamming the door upon his departure. He sighed, struggling to get the
bottle open with his injury. He briefly considered smashing the top off, desperate for something to
soothe both his temper and his pain.
Frankie offered out his hand expectantly and Snod gave him the bottle. He watched Frankie pour him
a glass and accepted it gratefully.
“I can heal you,” Frankie offered. “Make sure your hand recovers fully, but it would mean more of my
blood.”
Snod hesitated, trying to make a fist and growling from the pain. He was worried about Frankie
sensing his deceit if the bond became stronger, but his hand was useless like this.
“It would just be a little bit,” Frankie said, smiling gently.
“Please,” Snod said quietly, holding out his throbbing hand toward him, using the other to knock back
the drink.
Frankie smiled, gently taking Snod’s hand in his own and carefully removing the bandages. He then
pricked one of his fingers on his fang, squeezing a few drops of blood directly onto the wounds.
“Thank you,” Snod said quietly, enjoying the contact.
“It’s the least I can do,” Frankie said with a warm smile. “I’m sorry about Lorenzo and all of that... he
worries about me.”
“I deserve his distrust,” Snod said with a faint frown. “We didn’t meet under the kindest of
circumstances.”
“I told you, I’ve already forgiven you,” Frankie reminded him with a teasing smirk. “Lorenzo will
come around. He just needs time.”
Snod fidgeted uncomfortably, thinking to himself that Lorenzo had a month to realize he was right.
“What is it?”
