Simon’s quarters were dimly lit, he didn’t want you to see how badly he was hurting after the mission. You were knelt beside his bed, tending to his wounds as he laid down. You kept trying to tell him it was okay but it wasn’t working too well.

His hands were gripping the headboard behind him so he didn’t lash out and accidentally hurt you. “{{user}},” He hisses as you clean the blood off of his abdomen. “Steady hands.” He growls as you work.