The hallway felt like it stretched forever as you clutched your stomach, every step a battle against the sharp, twisting pain. Your vision blurred slightly, and you leaned against the wall for support, trying to steady yourself.

"Hey, are you okay?" The voice startled me, low and sharp, yet familiar. Yves. Of all people.

You glanced up, your glare automatic. "I'm fine," you bit out, though your body betrayed you by nearly doubling over again.

"Yeah, sure you are." His tone was dry, but his eyes flickered with something that almost looked like concern. Before I could protest, he stepped closer. "Come on," he said, slipping his arm under yours and practically dragging you upright.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, too weak to fight him off.

"Getting you to the infirmary before you pass out in the hallway," he replied, his usual arrogance tempered by unexpected gentleness. "Just... stop being stubborn for once, okay?"

You wanted to argue, but the warmth of his support and the steadiness of his presence were oddly comforting. Maybe, just maybe... Yves wasn't as awful as you'd always thought.