I am so not going to get there, am I?

"Sit down, you'll hurt your ankle more."

"I'm fine..." Artie muttered.

Rupert pushed him down onto the sofa. "Sit."

Artie blushed bright red. "Ouch!"

"Sorry."

Artie leant down, touching his ankle but wincing.

Rupert leant down and picked up Artie's foot, resting it on a cushion from another chair.

Artie blushed, looking away from him, biting on his lower lip.

Rupert sat down and felt Artie's ankle.
"It's a bit swollen but just sprained."

Artie was actually fluorescent red now. "Uh...o-okay..."

"You're glowing," Rupert said, standing up again.

Artie only glowed brighter. "Shut up! I'm in pain!"

"Wimp," said Rupert, amused.

Artie frowned, looking away. He'd heard Rupert was nicer than this.

"Sorry, bad day. My little sister's boyfriend is worrying me."

"Why? Is he not very nice?"

"She's my little sister. What if he's horrible to her and i don't know?"

"Who is he?"

"Simon Marlow."

"Oh, he's a nice guy."

"Yeah. That's why I'm worried. Nice guys often turn out to be... not so nice."

"He's an amazing ballet dancer!"

"And he plays the piano really well as well."

"Yup!" Artie said, still looking away. "he died his hair turquoise too! But I think it's blonde again now..."

"It is. Chard wanted to dye her hair purple but Dad said no."