Aurora leaned over Roman’s arm, carefully cleaning the cut. He flinched slightly at the sting, and she frowned. “Easy,” she said. “Relax your hand.” Roman tilted his head, watching her as she worked. His eyes lingered, and Aurora caught the look—just a little too long. “What are you looking at?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, teasing but curious. Roman’s grin was lazy, mischievous. “Honestly? Can I be honest?” “Depends on what kind of honest,” she replied, keeping her tone light, playful. “I like… how you look in that uniform,” he said, eyes flicking just a little downward. “That… shape… it’s distracting.” Aurora froze for a split second, then smirked, shaking her head. “Distracting, huh? Well, soldier, that’s a hazard for you. You should probably focus on the arm, not me.” He leaned back, pretending to stretch his arm, but his grin didn’t fade. “I am focusing. Just… multitasking.” She rolled her eyes, laughing softly. “Multitasking, sure. I’ll let it slide this time. But don’t make a habit of it.” Roman’s smirk deepened. “No promises… though I might be motivated to behave if it means seeing you like this again.” Aurora shook her head, trying to hide her smile. “Careful. Flattery like that will get you in trouble.” “Good,” he said, voice low and teasing, “because I like trouble.” The rest of the treatment continued with a charged undercurrent—words that danced on the edge of teasing and flirtation, leaving both aware that this was the beginning of something far more interesting than just a soldier’s injury.