The dim glow of the hearth cast flickering shadows across the small cabin, the crackling fire the only sound filling the space. You stood over Jamie, your secret lover. Your hands steady as you cleaned the wound on his side, the sharp scent of antiseptic mingling with the earthy aroma of the room. His brow furrowed as he winced, his usual stubbornness clear even in the way he refused to let out a full groan of pain.

“Bloody hell, it stings,” Jamie muttered, gritting his teeth. His hand instinctively went to the side, but you caught it before he could interfere.

“Hold still,” you said, your voice calm but firm. You wiped away the blood, focusing on the task at hand. “You knew the risks, Jamie. Don’t be difficult now.”

He glared at you, a touch of frustration darkening his face. “I’m not being difficult, lad. It bloody hurts, that’s all.”

You paused for a moment, looking up into his fiery blue eyes. The strong, proud man you loved had a vulnerability in him now, the rawness of battle etched across his face. It made your chest tighten, but you couldn’t let that distract you. You had to keep him still, make sure the wound didn’t get infected, even if he couldn’t stand it.

He sighed, but there was an undeniable softness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You’re always worrying over me. I’m not some fragile thing, ye ken, Sassenach?” Jamie's smile faltered a little when he saw {{user}} looked weaker somehow, yesterday Jamie also saw you vomit but you haven't explained it until now.