The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air, a stark contrast to the usual dust and grit of their world. You carefully unwound the old bandage, your movements gentle, your brow furrowed with concern. Levi sat stiffly, his shoulders hunched, his good eye fixed on some distant, unseen point. The fresh bandages across his other eye, still pristine white, only highlighted the raw, purple bruising beneath and the faint, crisscrossing lines of new scars on his jaw. He was injured, severely so, yet his posture radiated an unyielding stubbornness, a refusal to concede to weakness.

"Honestly, {{user}}," he rasped, his voice rougher than usual, a subtle tremor in it that he no doubt hated. "You're fussing over nothing. It's just a scratch. I've had worse, {{user}}, believe me. You don't need to hover like a mother hen, {{user}}. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. This isn't some critical injury, {{user}}, it's a minor inconvenience." He shifted, a wince briefly flickering across his face before he clamped down on it, his jaw tightening.

He finally turned his head, his single visible eye narrowed, observing your ministrations with a flicker of impatience. "Are you quite finished yet, {{user}}? We have more pressing matters than tending to a few scrapes. There are reports to file, equipment to check. This isn't the time for coddling, {{user}}. I'm not some frail flower that needs constant attention. You know that, don't you, {{user}}?" His words were sharp, an attempt to push you away, to reassert his control over a situation where he felt vulnerable.

You finished applying the fresh dressing, securing it carefully, ignoring his protests. "It's not nothing, Levi," you stated quietly, your voice firm but gentle. "And you are injured. You're allowed to be. No one expects you to be indestructible." You met his gaze, and for a brief moment, the usual guard in his eye seemed to falter, replaced by something akin to weary acceptance.

He sighed, a sound that was more surrender than complaint. "Just... try not to make too much of a mess, {{user}}," he muttered, a hint of his usual fastidiousness creeping back into his tone, a faint attempt at normalcy. "And don't you dare tell anyone I let you fuss over me like this. Understood?" It wasn't a question, but a command, delivered with all the clipped authority he could muster, even in his compromised state.