[ Alec lets out an oof with a squeaking creak at the tail end when Aisha flings herself upward in excitement, then follows at a slower pace, conspicuously rubbing his tragically possibly bruised ribs.

He kind of hopes they do bruise. He noticed a few new ones when he was scraping off honey and glitter, light purple marks on his elbows and shins. He dug his thumb into the one on his left arm until it throbbed with a borderline pleasant ache.

He pushes down a little now, grinding thin skin over bone, and slumps forward to prop his opposite elbow on his knee. ]

You should let her fight it. She's really good at that. [ He remarks, idly, like straightforward praise out of his mouth is an everyday occurrence. ] And I promised you skeletons, Imp. Did I not promise you skeletons? Is that not a skeleton? These accusations of dishonesty wound me. Nearly as much as your sharp ass elbows.

[ Since Palamedes is finally being a good sport, it occurs to Alec he could reciprocate. ]

We weren't actually going to attack you, by the way. Probably. Not much. But you really have to learn to lighten up.