TW

Hushed whispers of sweet nothings, arms draped protectively overtop your quivering shoulders.

Sobs wracked your frame, quiet noises of anguish slipped from chapped lips. Yet he never grew irritated, never seemed fed up. His hands neatly wove rolls of bandages overtop freshly cleansed wounds, your body steadied between his knees.

He was always there for you, that seemed a persistent theme. Another bittersweet night upon you two, of stinging astringents and murmured words of comfort.