Don’t have me arrested, I’m too pretty for prison.

[Really, a few days in jail would be nothing, but if he was actually convicted? It wouldn’t be a good time. He’d have to get the hell off of this planet before he got locked up, and he’d kind of gotten a little fond of this backwater iceball.]

[He should be taking Gepard seriously. The guy is the captain of the guard, he has some legitimate pull around here. But he’s cute when he’s mad and poking Sampo in the chest, calling him by a silly alias. Sampo can’t help but smile at him, amused.]

[Now that he has his hand back, Sampo kneels down by the couch and gets out the antiseptic, wetting a cotton pad with it. Gotta take care of that neck wound, Gepard, let your good pal wipe that up for you. He’s very good with his hands, has a very gentle touch.]

So what exactly do you want me to do, Captain? I can’t rely on blood bags, I can’t get it myself. It sounds like you’re suggesting that I should just go out into the snowfields and starve!

[Those green eyes look up at him, all sad and downturned. He’s gotten the sad puppy look down-pat, it’s a useful skill.]

You wouldn’t be so callous, would you? To me?