He is slow to unbutton Yasuo’s shirt, nimble fingers running over the creases in the fabric before prying it open with a distinct lack of urgency. Golden eyes leave the other’s face and trail down the length of his neck to settle on the colorful tattoos partially obscured by bandages. Talon has always wanted to ask about the meaning behind these things - if there is any sentimental value or if these were symbols he bore out of the sake of some old and tired tradition. Either way he remained silent as he began to undress the other.
Blood had begun to soak through the bandages on his stomach, the gauze slightly wet and the smell of iron began to permeate the air. He had re-opened his wound in their last altercation with a rivaling ‘faction.’ Despite his injuries Yasuo had fought without remorse. This had garnered some measure of respect from Talon who let his touch linger at his shoulders, pale fingers brushing over Yasuo’s tanned skin.
"Are you just going to stare at me all day?"
Talon lifted his gaze. Yasuo’s voice was lined with amusement, the faintest indication of a smile growing at the corners of his mouth. His nose wrinkled and the bandage with it - Talon thought this to be endearing but did not return the expression. Instead he shook his head, lowering his hands to grip the fabric of Yasuo’s dark blue shirt again.
"You saved my life Talon." Yasuo’s words barely audible as Talon’s grip tightened momentarily.
"Just as you had saved mine." He thought the debt to be repaid, golden eyes remaining level with the other’s face. Marcus had told him that he would work alongside Yasuo and Talon had done so dutifully. Never had he expected this outsider to risk his life for him, and never had he expected to do the same.