[Ludovico]

He spun around watching Zosa's movements with alarm. Being hurt, that was in his dream. He pushed his messy hair out of his face and grinned. “How many times do I have to tell you, my name isn't my lord, its Oliver.” he narrowed his eyes playfully. While Zosa had abandoned his post over the frying pan Oliver felt free to grab himself a piece while the other hand rubbed the side of his face trying to stop the tingling sensation of the kiss. His lips pursed into a grim line. “Zosa when did you get hurt?” He said turning a worried look towards him.

Oliver left the bacon and went to Zosa, taking a cup from his fingers. His other hand moved to touch his bicep. A jolt of familiarity trickled down Oliver's spine. He found himself saying “I'm sorry, it was all my fault.” He kissed the fabric that concealed the spot where the wound should have been. Oliver didn't remember why he should have been apologizing, he just did. Every thing he spoke now felt as if it was coming from his heart. “I'm glad your with me.” He chuckled “Who else would cook me breakfast and forgive me for sleeping in and give me juice.” Behind his glasses, his eyes turned into huge pleading puppy dog saucers.