while many riders at bagsiath assumed ridoc to be clueless, he was far from it. sure, he presented himself as a jokester, but that didn’t mean he was completely incompetent.

he noticed when you started disappearing more and more. whether it was classes, squad training, or the morning runs the two of you had made a routine, you were starting to show your face less and less. He was sure something was off, otherwise you would have told him why you were being pulled so often. there had been no big attacks, nothing to justify them pulling you for ‘assistance with mending’, as they had called it.

it was rather easy to slip into the medical center after hours. he merely needed to complain about a headache, and the riders guarding the hallways after hours got annoyed enough to send him to the medical wing.

“you’re here late.”

a small smile twitched at his lips when you jumped, his warm brown eyes tracing over your figure. You looked rough. your skin was paler, your eyes framed with prominent eyebags. In fact, you looked completely drained.

ridoc strode into the ward, eyeing the lack of riders on the beds. if you weren’t mending a flock of badly injured riders, then why did you look so worn down?

“how long has it been since you’ve slept?” he added as he approached your side, peering over your shoulder to watch you straighten the sheets on a cot. it would have amused him, how hard you were trying to look busy, if he hadn’t been so worried.