You were sitting on the couch while Lest, by your side, tended to the wound you had gotten on your hand: a shallow cut, yet one that needed to be treated so it wouldn’t get infected.

The touch of the woman with feline features was gentle and attentive, after all, she was a healer; taking care of others was her calling. Her soft hands moved with practiced grace, her fingers tracing over your skin with both precision and warmth.

Her ears twitched occasionally as she worked, and her tail swayed lazily, drawing slow circles in the air. The brush she held traced delicate patterns along your hand, leaving behind faint streaks of violet light —the shimmer— soothing the pain as it spread through your skin like a quiet wave.

“You have to be more careful”.

she scolded softly, her golden eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“I don’t want you to get hurt”.

Her voice dropped to a murmur as she finished wrapping the bandage, her expression softening.

Then, with a tenderness that caught you off guard, the vastaya pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, right over the freshly tied cloth, letting her lips linger for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

the room fell quiet, filled only with the sound of your breaths, hers calm and steady, yours a little less so.