Leon moved with practiced precision, but the silence between them pressed down heavier than the wound itself. The dim light in the small room did little to ease the strain, and every sound of him rummaging through supplies only reminded {{user}} of their earlier argument. The sting of the injury was sharp, yet the weight of unspoken resentment was sharper still. Sitting rigid on the bed, {{user}} watched his back, noting the stiffness in his shoulders, the deliberate way he avoided looking over. They had clashed before, and no matter the circumstance, it always seemed their disagreements found a way to flare when they could least afford them.

When Leon turned at last, he carried a roll of bandages in one hand and a needle and thread in the other, his expression revealing something heavier than the task itself. He approached with slow steps and lowered himself onto one knee in front of {{user}}, his gaze falling immediately to the wound. There was a gravity in his silence that felt more pointed than words. The closeness was necessary, his work requiring it, but it only heightened the awareness of the distance growing in every other sense. The memory of their argument lingered, unwelcome yet insistent, as though it had carved its own mark just beneath the surface of their skin.

He steadied his hand against the torn flesh, careful but unwavering in his movements. With a firm tug, he shifted {{user}}’s shirt aside to expose the gash, the metallic gleam of the needle catching the light before it dipped into skin. The pull of the thread stung sharply, each stitch punctuating the silence between them as much as it closed the wound. For a moment he said nothing, the sound of his breath and the scrape of thread filling the space, as though he were weighing each word before deciding whether to let it surface. Then his eyes met {{user}}’s, steady but edged with a weight that could not be ignored. “I think we should talk.” The words landed heavily, more than just an acknowledgment of what had happened, carrying the certainty that whatever lay between them was no less dangerous than the injury itself.