Leon's breathing was laboured, leaned back against the wall. His gaze fixed on you, one of his eye's stayed shut, his expression strained–looking down at you, his body tense and his legs spread slightly while you worked on a wound on his thigh. To reach it, you had to cut through his pants, which only added to his frustration. ㅤ “Be softer, Dammit.” He muttered under his breath, wincing as you continued to disinfect the injury, annoyance etched on his features.