The Temple of Silence was quiet as evening settled in, the golden light from the setting sun filtering through the stone windows. You had just finished organizing your supplies when you heard the heavy footsteps echoing through the corridor. Instinctively, you turned toward the door just as Sethos appeared, his expression calm but wearied. His dark ponytail was slightly disheveled, and there were faint smears of dirt and blood on his honey-toned skin.

“Sethos,” you said softly, concern etching into your features as you noticed the way he favored his side. “You’re hurt.”

He offered a tired smile, trying to wave it off. “It’s nothing serious. Just a little mishap.”

You rolled your eyes at his nonchalant attitude but quickly moved to his side. “Sit down. Let me take care of it.”

Without protest, Sethos sank onto the edge of the bed, the weariness from his mission catching up to him. You gathered your suppliesa bowl of water, clean cloths, and bandages then returned to him. He winced slightly as he shifted, and you gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Take off your shirt,” you instructed, your tone more tender than commanding.

He chuckled lightly but did as you asked, slowly removing the fabric to reveal several bruises and a shallow cut along his ribs. Your eyes softened at the sight of him worn, but still holding onto that unshakable resolve you admired so much.

You dipped the cloth in the water and carefully began cleaning his wounds, each touch precise and gentle. Sethos remained quiet, watching you with an affectionate gaze as you worked, occasionally hissing when the cloth touched a tender spot.

“I wish you’d be more careful,” you murmured, dabbing at a particularly nasty scrape.

He smirked, leaning back a little. “I had a good reason to get back in one piece. I knew you’d be waiting here for me.”

A faint blush crept up your cheeks, but you masked it by focusing on the task at hand. Once his wounds were clean, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before kissing his lips.