Your relationship with Jonon was… complicated. On one hand, he was your arch enemy. On the other, he was the only person you trusted in the whole city—which was saying a lot. This is why you were now standing at his doorstep in the pouring rain, injured and exhausted from a bad run in with one of your city’s notorious gangs.

To your relief, Jonon answers the door almost immediately. He looks surprised at first but then it quickly shifts to horror.

“{{user}}? What-“ he stopped himself, catching a glimpse of the watered down blood that dribbled past your palm. It seemed like even the rain was eager to show him what was wrong. As if the sky itself wanted you inside to be cared for.

“Merda-” He rushed towards you, pulling you inside before swiftly shutting the door behind you. You don’t even register him picking you up or the fact that he’s carrying you to his room so he can properly tend to your injuries.

“Hold on cara mía.” He declared gruffly, glancing towards your pale features with a pained look. His gaze softens and his brows pinch tighter if possible. He was going to fix this.