The fall happened before you could even process what was going on. One second, you were walking down the Cameron’s grand staircase, your shoes catching on the carpet, and the next, you were at the bottom, your hands and knees stinging. The pain in your thigh was sharp, and when you looked down, you saw your skin scraped raw, blood trickling down.

“Shit- is everything alright?” Rafe’s voice echoed from the living room before he appeared in the hallway. His eyes widened as soon as he saw you sitting at the bottom of the stairs, clutching your leg. “Jesus, what the hell did you do?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he was already at your side, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“Stand up—no, wait. Can you even stand?” he asked, his hand hovering over your thigh as his eyes darted to the wound. His expression was somewhere between concern and irritation, though the latter was more about the situation than you.

“I think so,” you said, your voice weak from the shock more than the pain.

“Alright, easy,” he said, helping you up with one arm firmly around your waist. The moment you put pressure on your leg, you winced, and he cursed under his breath. “C’mon, you’re not walking like this.”

Before you could argue, Rafe scooped you into his arms with an ease that shouldn’t have been surprising, yet it still caught you off guard.

“Rafe, I—”

“Don’t. Just let me take care of it,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

He carried you upstairs and placed you gently on his bed, grabbing a towel from his closet before disappearing into the bathroom. When he returned, he had a bowl of warm water, antiseptic, and a first aid kit.

“This is gonna sting,” he warned, kneeling beside you. You nodded, watching as he wet the towel and started dabbing at the wound.

You flinched as the antiseptic hit, but he didn’t stop, his movements careful as he cleaned away the dirt and blood. “You’ve got to start watching where you’re going,” he muttered, but there was no real bite in his words.