You knew something was wrong the second your boot hit the mat harder than it should’ve, the sharp jolt in your ankle confirming it before you even looked down.

But with the rest of Payback still in the training room, you kept your mouth shut and pushed through the pain. The last thing you need is more crap from the team, not when they already call you “soft” for stretching and icing sore muscles.

By the end of training your ankle was screaming: swollen and throbbing with each step you took. It’s a miracle you made it to the medical wing without collapsing from the pain. The cold compress did little to nothing to calm the bruised skin staring back at you, angry and purple. 

You almost tossed the ice pack across the room when the door cracked open, only to sigh in relief when you saw Earving on the other side. 

Because of course it’s him, of course he noticed that you were hurt.

He doesn’t say anything at first, walking in and settling at the edge of the bed like he always belongs there. His gaze shifts to your ankle, then back to exhausted expression. There’s undeniable amusement in his eyes, but it’s muted by the worry he doesn’t even try to hide.

“..could’ve fooled me, you know?” His voice is soft but teasing, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re more bruised in pride or in body.