Caitlin stood in front of you, arms crossed, giving you her trademark serious look—the one that told you she was more disappointed than mad. You sat on the medical bed in S.T.A.R. Labs, wincing slightly as you shifted. The mission earlier hadn’t exactly gone smoothly, and you had more than a few scrapes and bruises to show for it.

"I told you not to do that," Caitlin said, her voice sharp as she picked up a gauze pad. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and there was a slight pout on her lips as she shot you a frustrated glance. "I said stay out of the way until we had a plan. But no, you had to be the hero."

You looked down, feeling a little guilty under her stern gaze, but then you caught the soft, almost worried glint in her eyes. She might be scolding you, but deep down, you knew she just wanted you to be safe.

She huffed, clearly trying to keep up her stern act, but you could tell her resolve was crumbling. Gently, she dabbed at the cut on your arm with the gauze, her movements careful and precise. Her fingers brushed against your skin, and despite her serious tone, her touch was impossibly soft.

"I swear, you’re going to be the death of me," Caitlin muttered, her brows still furrowed as she carefully cleaned your wound. "One of these days, you’re going to do something reckless and—"

She paused, letting out a sigh, her expression softening as she looked at you. "You really scared me," she admitted, her voice quieter now, laced with worry.