[Kit was silent as his companion doubled over in attempt to ride out whatever wave of pain or nausea had overcome him, instead focusing on the gouges Vincent had left upon the back of his hand. He hadn't thought his nails had dug in that deeply, but upon closer inspection, they had done more than broken the top layer of skin; they had drawn blood.

He ought to be concerned, but instead his only thought was to tug his jacket sleeve down a little further to conceal the marks lest the other teen feel the need to aggressively not worry about him again. He could tend to the bleeding later, whatever pain was caused by it lost in the wave already consuming every inch of his body. It was impossible now to differentiate one ache from another...thus, easier to ignore them all.

The only thing that wasn't so easy to do was to blink the black spots out of his eyes...tempting him again to shut them once he'd covered his hand. But that was a problem, too. He was so tired. But was it fatigue or something else? He couldn't tell those two apart anymore, either.]

I feel like you're the sort of person who wouldn't be satisfied unless both of us were rendered completely incapacitated...

[But his tone wasn't discriminatory. If anything, Kit sounded vaguely approving. That would, after all, be the only way to keep his promise short of either one forfeiting his life.]