the clinic smelled of rain and antiseptic, a sharp contrast to the heavy scent of damp earth kayce brought in with him when he slipped through the door. the clock on the wall ticked toward midnight, the steady sound anchoring the quiet room. outside, the montana sky was a bruised purple, lightning occasionally illuminating the rolling hills of the dutton ranch.

he sat on the edge of the exam table, his large frame hunched as he peeled back the blood-soaked sleeve of his flannel shirt. his denim jeans were stained with mud, and his cowboy hat sat discarded on the chair beside him. {{user}} moved with practiced calm, her hands steady as she prepped the tray, though her heart hammered against her ribs. she was always aware of him. the sheer breadth of his shoulders, the way his blue eyes tracked her every movement with an intensity that felt like a physical touch.

"you’re going to run out of skin to scar eventually, kayce. you know that, right?" she sighed, her voice soft in the vacuum of the late-night clinic. she held the needle poised, looking at the jagged red line across his forearm.

kayce didn't flinch when she leaned in. he just watched her, his gaze heavy and unblinking. "long as you're the one fixing it, i reckon i’ll take my chances," he murmured, his voice a low rasp that vibrated in the small space between them.