The medical tent smelled of antiseptic, blood, and burnt fabric.

Wayne stood across from you, sleeves rolled to his forearms as he wrapped another bandage around your side. His movements were quick, practiced, and completely devoid of gentleness.

He tied the bandage off tighter than necessary.

You hissed.

He didn’t apologize.

Instead, he crossed his arms, staring at you with tired gray eyes before letting out a slow, irritated sigh.

“If you’re gonna be this reckless, it’s the last time I’m fixing you up. I swear.” His jaw tightened. “It’s annoying already.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself.

He held up a finger.

“No.”