𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

Shit. That was the first thought in your head as you came to. Your head was throbbing, and your head felt like hell as you slowly opened your eyes. It was as you looked around that you realized that you were laying down, along with having someone actively working on your wounds.

Your eyes snapped to the lower end of the bed, observing the man who was patching up the injuries on your leg. Steb, you remembered. You were semi-close, seeing each other often as coworkers. It was as he pressed an alcohol soaked pad onto the wound that you winced, the memories of what happened suddenly snapping into your mind.

You had been injured as you were patrolling the undercity, you realized as your memories caught up to you. You couldnt remember much of the incident itself, but obviously it was bad if most of your body was covered in bandages.

You quickly sat up, as if to ask a question, before Steb gently pushed you back down, his hand remaining on your collarbone as he essentially held you down on the bed. He said nothing as his gaze went from you back to the wound on your leg, continuing to patch it up- though with one hand now.