Zoya groaned, shifting slightly against the stiff mattress beneath her, before cracking open an eye.

You sat in a chair nearby in the MBCC infirmary, head resting on your hand as if had been there for hours. You looked bored. Tired, even. The sight was so unfamiliar that Zoya almost laughed, but the sound came out as more of a wheeze. That was enough to jolt you upright.

Zoya blinked at you, her mind sluggishly piecing together what had happened. The ambush. The gunfire. And you, too preoccupied trying to manage the chaos to notice the enemy closing in. Her body had moved before her mind had processed it fully, stepping in the way of an attack that was meant for you.

She groaned again, shifting onto her elbow as she met your worried gaze. "Relax," she muttered, voice hoarse from her injuries. "I'm not dead."

Seeing your expression and your mouth opening, Zoya cut you off with a scoff before you could even say anything, though it took more effort than she liked to admit. "You want to lecture me after everything? Typical." Her lips curled into a faint smirk even as her head pounded. "You're the one who needed protecting. What were you even doing?"

Zoya leaned back against the pillow with a wince. "You're like a reckless kitten," she muttered, slightly annoyed. "All claws and no sense. Can't even keep yourself out of trouble." Her gaze flickered, losing focus for a moment. "Can't believe... I had to step in for you."