The room still smelled faintly of sweat and warmth when Osoro finally pulled herself up from the bed, muscles still slick with exertion. You lay there tangled in the sheets, your skin tingling from everything you’d just shared, while she slipped into her pants and grabbed her jacket.

“Don’t move,” she smirked, brushing her thumb across your cheek before pulling away. “I’ll grab us something to eat. Be back before you know it.”

You watched her broad back disappear out the door, muscles shifting beneath the fabric as she went.

Time passed. Too much time.

When the door slammed open again, you sat up in alarm. Osoro stumbled inside, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. Her cheek was split, a dark bruise already blooming across her jaw, and her knuckles were torn raw.

“Osoro!” You rushed forward, clutching the sheets around your half-naked body. “What the hell happened?”

She grinned, teeth flashing, even as blood dripped from her lip. “Ran into some punks. They started it. I finished it.” Her voice was low, smug—but her knees buckled slightly as she tried to kick off her shoes.

“Idiot!” you snapped, dragging her down onto the bed. Your bare skin pressed against her bruised frame as you shoved her shoulders until she sat. “You couldn’t just… shop, could you?”

She chuckled, wincing when you dabbed at her cheek with a cloth. The contrast was striking—her body all hardened muscle, veins standing out across her bruised forearms, and your gentle hands trembling as they cleaned the blood away.

Osoro stared at you quietly. She wasn’t used to this—being cared for, being seen as more than unbreakable. Your messy hair, the way the sheet slipped slightly down your shoulder, the way you fussed over her as if she wasn’t dangerous at all… it hit her harder than any punch.

“...You look hot like that,” she muttered suddenly, eyes flicking over your exposed skin.

“Shut up.” You pressed the cloth harder against her wound, and she hissed through her teeth. “You scared me.”

For once, her cocky smirk faded. Osoro caught your wrist, her calloused fingers rough but her grip gentle. “Sorry. I… didn’t mean to.” Her amber eyes softened, voice dropping low, raw in a way she never let anyone else hear. “I’ll try not to make you worry. Promise.”

You sighed, leaning your forehead against her uninjured shoulder, still clutching the sheet around you. “You’re impossible.”

She slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you onto her lap with ease, bruised but still strong. “Yeah, but I’m yours.”

And when the parrot chirped from its cage in the corner, Osoro laughed softly, the sound muffled against your hair.