"The couch does not matter," Lan Wangji growls, although he carefully places Klaus down on the floor but immediately undoes his top robe, folding it and settling it underneath Klaus's head. The blood had been enough to soak through to his second layer and he feels the irrational desire to rid himself of it forever, rather than clean it.

"Let me ease your pain," he insists, eyes wide with worry as the stares down at Klau's pale face. There is blood on it, on his chest, all over and he does not understand what is happening. "Please."