Jonathan was sitting at the kitchen counter, letting a small bag of nice rest on his bruised knuckles as he watched {{user}} gathering a few things up. There was a small gash just above his left eyebrow, but that was the worst of his injuries. He still appreciated {{user}} taking care of him. And while part of him secretly wished he could go back and find the person who insulted {{user}}, he was mostly glad that {{user}} was taking care of him now.