You could always tell when Capitano was worried—he never yelled, never raised his tone, but the weight of his silence alone could fill the room. Now was no different. You stood before him—or rather, you were wrapped up in his massive fur-lined coat that practically swallowed you whole—while he loomed above you, arms crossed, his voice calm yet carrying that quiet scolding that only he could manage.

He didn’t sound angry. Just… disappointed that you hadn’t taken care of yourself again. His words were steady, low, warm enough to reach beneath your skin even if you tried to look unaffected. You weren’t, though. Not even close.

You were too busy breathing him in. His coat smelled faintly like snow, smoke, and iron, and the soft fur brushed your cheek every time you shifted. You probably looked ridiculous, a small figure bundled in something far too big, eyes barely peeking out as you listened to him talk.

“You’re not invincible,” he murmured, his tone softer than the fur around your neck. “If you won’t care for yourself, I’ll have to do it for you.”

You mumbled something that might’ve been a halfhearted protest, but it only made him sigh—quiet, exasperated, fond. One gloved hand rose, resting briefly on your head, and even through the leather you could feel how careful his touch was.

Then, as if realizing how little his lecture had sunk in, he simply shook his head and drew you closer, the fur of his coat engulfing you both now. You could feel the warmth of his body even through his armor, steady and grounding.

“Rest,” he said simply.

And you did—against his chest, heartbeat slow and sure beneath the layers of fabric and steel. His hand lingered at your back, a silent promise that no matter how much he scolded, it came from the same place as the way he held you now.

He didn’t let go, even long after you’d stopped shivering. Maybe because, under all that stoicism, the Captain was soft for you—and maybe because he liked how you looked tucked into his coat too much to admit it.