You’d been injured while training. A sprained wrist—nothing serious—but Jordan thought otherwise. They were treating it as if it were a life threatening injury. As soon as they heard the news, they wasted no time in rushing their ass down to the infirmary where you settled in for the time being, awaiting your release.

“I thought you were better than this,” Jordan barked as soon as you were walking out the doors, eyes lingering on the brace settled around your wrist to keep you from injuring it further. It hurt them worse than it hurt you, ironically. They knew it was an accident, but a lingering anger still remained. Someone had hurt you, and that thought alone scared them.

The anger faded into empathy. You were injured. “Alright. Come on, I’ll get you back to your dorm. Make sure you’re alright.” They sighed, wrapping their arm around your shoulders as they led you back to the dormitories.

This was out of character. Extremely. But at the very least, you had someone to lean on when you needed it. Jordan helped you settle into bed—even ordered you two some food while they were at it. “You need to be more careful,” they mumbled, biting into their steaming chicken sandwich. It wasn’t scolding, just a… helpful tip.