He grimaced as the cool cotton ball was pressed against his wound, the sting of the alcohol making his eyes water. "Easy," he whispered, jaw clenched with pain.

This was a routine he had grown accustomed to. There were other healers on the ship, but he always chose you, someone who wasn't even trained as a healer.

Perhaps it was due to his mistrust in the rest, or maybe because he wanted an excuse to spend more to spend more time in your presence, whatever the reason — it remains unknown.