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Getting ready for the job, his fingers trace for a second in the little space between the collar of Wolfwood's shirt and nape, both stuck together thanks to the dry blood and sweat from the injury.
The act makes Wolfwood freeze in place, a shiver going down his spine with anxiety as his brain tries to process why this simple action makes him stiff, although from Roberto's point of view, that's a question easy to answer. This little, not so little piece of metal embedded in his nape, near the end of his hair.
He retracts his fingers from the injury, giving Wolfwood space to compose himself before asking any questions. The silence between them grows second by second until Roberto's curiosity finally won. The simple "Where did you get that?" escaped his lips, lacking his usual more sarcastic way of speaking. He could see this young man gaze, defensive to the core but with some snippets of what he was actually feeling in those tired eyes.
After taking care of the injury, almost on instinct, he moved his hand to the top of Wolfwood's head, giving him a soft ruffle. As for Wolfwood himself, his head rested on the old man's shoulder as his confusion over the unexpected touch washed away and comfort from a long forgotten gesture took its place.
They never had long conversations or even considered themselves close to each other in any significant manner, but there was always this nagging feeling in the back of Roberto's mind very time Wolfwood opened his mouth. Something in this young man's way of speaking never suited him.
Seeing him, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, "The Punisher" get this calm after a simple act of comfort is kinda strange. But maybe it was due to Wolfwood's own exhaustion and the loss of blood from early today.
With his eyes closed, Wolfwood simply said "Why?" Because no matter how much he liked the touch, this was so out of character for Roberto.
"You seem to need it." Roberto replied.