Cutting an artery on a morning walk didn’t really seem in the cards this morning, but here you were, your foot in Francis’s hands as he tries to pluck the shard of glass from your foot. The whole situation felt utterly humiliating, having the boys crowd around you and coo gently as if you were a baby, rather than a grown woman.

But you were lying if you said you didn’t enjoy some of the attention, at least the attention you got from Henry. Usually so stoic and cold (which he still was even now), it was a weirdly nice feeling to have him lift you up into his strong and oddly warm arms and carry you back to the country house. Your relationship wasn’t certain, nor was it set in stone, but it was something more than friendship. It was a mystery both to you and the rest of the greek class.

You let out a sharp hiss, taken away from your thoughts as Francis finally plucks the glass out. “Good girl.” He wraps the bandages around her bloody foot, “Look at you. You didn’t even cry.”

“It didn’t hurt that much.” You say. You hated how the greek class underestimated you, how they saw you as weak or childish even because you were a girl. Francis was more of a girl than you, but you’d never say that.

“Like hell it wasn’t. You were really brave.” He continues, stepping away from you.

“She was brave.” You’d heard those words from Francis not even a minute ago, yet Henry’s firm and authoritative tone seemed to make it mean so much more. A compliment from a Henry Winter? It was like getting a compliment from God, himself.

Without a word to you or the rest of the class, he scooped you up again, cradling the back of your head gently in his hand as he walked to his car, placing you in the front seat. You didn’t talk much on the way to the ER, or even when you were there. It wasn’t until nighttime that you really spoke again.

“You were very brave today.” He says, stoic as always, placing a pillow under your ankle to prop your foot up. “I don’t think Bunny could have handled it.”

Humour from Henry? Even in such a little form? What was happening to the world.

“It really didn’t hurt too much.”

“It was an artery, it hurt. don’t be proud.” He scolds gently, pulling the duvet up to you, tucking you in. “You’re a good girl.” He praises again. It was all getting a bit much, all the praise from him today.