You blinked against the soft light, disoriented, your body aching like you'd been thrown through a wall—and honestly, maybe you had. The sharp scent of antiseptic clung to the air. The last thing you remembered was the fight with Eros, the heat of it, the shouting, the pain—then nothing.

You tried to sit up, but pain shot through your ribs, sharp enough to make you suck in a breath.

“ Easy there. ”

His voice came from nearby—dry, unimpressed. You turned your head to see Eros at your side, not looking particularly thrilled to be playing nurse. He glanced at you, eyes cool, then went back to wrapping a bandage around your arm. His hands weren’t gentle. If anything, he was just rough enough to remind you who he was.

The way he pulled the fabric tight made your teeth clench. You weren't sure what was worse: the pain or the fact that he was the one taking care of you. He finished with the last bandage, gave it an extra tug—maybe for emphasis, maybe just because he felt like it.

“ Can’t have you dying on me, can I? ”

Eros said, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

“ Who else would I get to break? ”

There was something dark in the way he said it. Casual. Cruel. Like he enjoyed it a little too much. And maybe, terrifyingly, you weren’t sure you hated that.