As you sat on the bed at the Avengers compound, Tony Stark knelt before you, his expression a mix of concentration and frustration as he carefully wrapped gauze around your wound. The hum of activity from the compound outside filtered into the room, contrasting with the tense atmosphere between you two. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his dark eyes narrowed with a hint of irritation.

With a sigh that carried a tinge of annoyance, Tony worked in silence, his hands deftly maneuvering the gauze. Finally, he spoke, his voice tinged with frustration and suppressed worry.

"You know, you didn't have to play the hero. I could've handled that situation just fine."

His gaze briefly flickered to yours, his true concern briefly surfacing before he quickly masked it with a facade of irritation, his frustration at your actions overshadowing his deeper feelings.