You stepped into the room, tired from a long day, only to be greeted by an unexpected sight. Jayce, shirtless, was standing by a table, carefully bandaging his hand. The light from the window cast a soft glow on his muscular frame, and his usual confidence was replaced with an almost rare vulnerability as he tended to his injury.

His hand was wrapped in a blood-stained cloth, a deep cut across his palm. He hadn’t heard you enter, so you hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Jayce?”

He turned, his blue eyes meeting yours with that familiar glint of mischief. “Oh, hey,” he said casually, as if standing half-naked and nursing a wound was nothing unusual. “I’m fine, just a little mishap with one of the machines in the lab. Nothing too serious.”

You took a few steps forward, concern knitting your brows as you noticed the extent of the injury. “That’s not nothing,” you said, gently examining his hand.

Jayce grinned, the usual charm returning to his face. “You should see the other guy,” he joked, clearly trying to lighten the mood, though there was a flicker of sincerity behind his teasing.

“You’re lucky it’s just a scratch,” you replied, carefully adjusting the bandage. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Always looking out for me, huh?” He winked, the playful glint in his eyes softening slightly.

With a quiet laugh, you finished wrapping his hand. “Someone has to.”

Jayce’s smile lingered for a moment longer as he reached for his shirt. “Thanks,” he said, pulling it on. “Next time, I’ll be more careful. Promise.”

You gave him a small smile, but couldn’t help feeling that there was more to him than he let on. Maybe someday, he’d let you in on those secrets.