Mael looked like crap—one arm wrapped in a sling, hair left loose to fall around his face, exhaustion pouring from every inch of him—but damn if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. He was also pissed. It was hard to tell on him, considering the natural state of exhaustion his face always carried—like resting bitch face but less frowny and more “barely surviving on redbull and coffee”—but I’d like to think I knew him well enough by now to get a good gauge of his moods. Current mood being: pissed the fuck off and mildly panicking.
