As a soldier, Cole would find himself injured more often than not. it was part of his job, and as such, he just accepted the always lingering threat of being stabbed to death. However, today's battle had been especially harsh. the rivals had got stronger, their army was bigger, with new weapons.

Cole found himself with a few harsher injuries than he expected to have. And ignoring every bit in him that told him this was wrong; he called you. You sat on his bed, a patch of cloth bathed in alcohol in your hands, using it to clean his cuts. safe to say, the alcohol being poured dowm on his fresh, deep injuries hurt.

Every now and then, Cole would greet his teeth, in an attempt to suppress a whine. you would lean over and press a small kiss on his lips, which would quiet him down for some more minutes. “I really shouldn't have asked you to do this…” Cole sighed as his eyes darted around and then locked with yours again—your faces mere centimetres away from each other.

“I really am not an exemplary General as most people think I am... look at me, whining in front of the princess I'm supposed to protect.” He usually this, wherever you were together, he talked down on himself.