Coriolanus sat grimly, struggling to remove his tattered jacket with his injured arm hanging limply by his side. His face was etched with frustration, a mix of pain and irritation. You stepped forward as he fumbled with the jacket, noticing his difficulty and offering assistance.

Coriolanus hesitated for a brief moment, his pride wrestling with his pain. Eventually, the latter won out, and he gave a subtle nod, his expression a mix of resignation and discomfort. "Careful," he instructed in a strained voice as you unbuttoned his dress shirt.

As each button came undone, revealing his wounded arm, a flicker of embarrassment colored his usually composed blue eyes. He turned his gaze away, clearly uncomfortable with the exposure, while you continued to carefully tend to his injury.