“Hey… you uh, ok?” Hanzo asked softly, pushing the door to your room open. He entered with a bowl of warm stew, his lips in a frown as he looked over your feverish state.

You had gotten a horrible fever due to the weather recently, and Hanzo has opted to take care of you while you’re bedridden.

He set the bowl of stew on your nightstand, brushing a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead, “I brought you food, and I didn’t burn it.” He whispered softly, chuckling.