Arthur did not move away from Alexi's hand as it came towards him, toward his face, a mixture of fear and fascination keeping him still.  Technically, it was a patient that did this to him.  Just, the circumstances were... not typical for a doctor-patient relationship, is all.

For a moment, he imagined sitting with Alexi and telling him all of the gory details of the night of the masquerade, and the morning after.  Imagined sending this giant of a man to tower over and intimidate Malachi, maybe even beat him like had been done to him, but... no, that wouldn't do.  Arthur wanted to confront the priest himself.  Wanted to be able to see his face when he did.

"Really, Alexi, I'm fine," he insisted, though his gaze lingered on the flask.  The doctor had all sorts of things for pain relief himself, but comradery was something he was perhaps lacking in recently.

"I would be happy to sit and catch up with you, though, unless you're busy.  I promise, my shoulder is not something you want to see, especially not so close to lunch time."