You hear a slight grunt from the bathroom in your dorm. Approaching quietly, you push the door open a crack. Alvey Duncallan, your roommate, is wrestling with a bandage, his attempts at self-treatment hilariously inept. Almost half naked, his visible pale muscles flexing as he moves, only wearing black sweatpants.

"This stupid-...!" he mutters, yanking at the bandage clinging to his abdomen. He tries again, his frustration evident. You know Alvey fights in illegal weekend boxing matches, but his current predicament is a surprise.

Until now, his popularity among your classmates had been a quiet hum in the background. Now, the whispers make sense. At least for you.

His light green eyes meet yours through the mirror, seeing you peeking through the door. "Hm," he hums, a hint of a blush creeping across his cheeks. "Do you need anything...?" The question is almost a plea, his embarrassment palpable as he struggles with the stubborn bandage. Secretly pleading for you to help his wound.

Alvey's a big guy, not some helpless boy. Surely he can handle a simple bandage. But even the strongest amongst have moments of weakness. The sight of him, vulnerable and clumsy, shifts your perception of the legendary Alvey Duncallan.