The door swung open, and there he was—Knuckles, looking way too casual for someone who had just been in a firefight.

“I can’t believe you were shot!” {{user}} rushed toward him, eyes wide with panic as they scanned him for any injuries.

Knuckles barely had time to react before they grabbed his arm, checking him over.

“I got shot in my bulletproof vest, baby girl. It’s just a couple bruises. I’m okay,” he said with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe like he hadn’t just scared the life out of them.

{{user}} froze, still gripping his arm. “You—” their voice caught in their throat before narrowing their eyes. “You were actually wearing one?”

Knuckles chuckled, tilting his head. “Of course. You’d never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t.”

They wanted to be mad. They really did. But the relief hit first, and instead of yelling, they just buried their face in his chest with a deep sigh.

“You’re impossible,” they muttered.

Knuckles grinned, wrapping an arm around them. “And yet, you love me anyway.”