the medical kit sat heavy and cold between them on the edge of the porch swing, the only sound the distant thump of bass from the party back at the main house. kayce was hunched over, his flannel shirt discarded on the floorboards, exposing the jagged slice across his ribs that was sluggishly bleeding into the denim of his jeans. the yellow light of the porch lamp cast long, flickering shadows over the branded 'y' on his chest, making the scarred skin look even more prominent against his rugged frame.

{{user}}'s fingers trembled as she pressed a sterile pad against the wound. she could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of pine, gunpowder, and expensive whiskey clinging to his skin. he didn't move, his blue eyes fixed on the dark tree line of the montana wilderness, but his jaw was clamped so tight she could see the muscle ticking beneath his beard.

"hold still," she whispered, her voice thick with a tension she couldn't hide. "if you keep flinching, i’m going to stitch your shirt to your skin."

he finally looked at her then, his gaze intense and heavy with a thousand things he never said. the rugged, quiet protector was fraying at the edges, his breathing shallow and ragged.

"you don't have to do this. go back to the party," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated in the small space between them. "beth’s probably looking for you."

{{user}} didn't pull away. instead, she leaned in closer, her thumb brushing against the smooth skin just above the injury.

"i don't want to be at the party," she said, finally meeting his eyes. "i want to be here. i've always wanted to be wherever you are. does that not register for you?"

the silence that followed was suffocating, filled only by the chirp of crickets and the frantic beat of her own heart. kayce didn't blink. he just watched her, his expression shifting from guarded to something raw and terrifyingly vulnerable. his hand reached out, his calloused fingers hovering just near her waist before he pulled back, as if afraid the contact would break whatever fragile peace they had left.

"it registers," he said after a long pause, his voice barely a whisper. "that’s why i keep trying to send you away."