The nurse said, “Two days, then light duty.” You nodded, promised to take it easy. But the moment your name hit the clearance board, you went straight to the gym.

You pushed through it. Because resting wasn’t in your nature. Not when there was work to be done.

Focus. Discipline. That was you.

You continued to push trough your training as your heard heavy footsteps approaching, you toyght it's just ine of the soldier who decide to go training a bit, but you are clearly wrong.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” The gruff voice cuts through the quiet clank of weights, sharp and unmistakably pissed. You don’t even have to turn around. You know that voice.

“Captain,” you say, not looking at him, not stopping either. “Just getting back into routine.”

Your heart pounds a little harder, not from the workout, but from the weight in his voice. He sounds angrier than usual. And not just angry, frustrated. He’s standing there, arms crossed, jaw tight, a storm in his eyes.

“You were in the medbay for two bloody days. Two. And the first thing you do when they let you out is sneak off to the gym like you're invincible?”

You sit up on the bench, a towel wrapped around your neck as you nonchalantly shrugged his concern off your shoulders.

"You were ordered to rest," he snaps. “You can’t even walk right, and you think pushing yourself is the smart move?”

“I’m fine,” you mutter, not backing down. “I know my limits.” Price lets out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Clearly.”

He steps in closer, towering now, arms crossed and eyes locked on you like a hawk. “You were ordered to rest," he repeats. "So go to your quarters and rest. Simple a that?"

"Nah, its not that simple." You said with a small smirk and whiped the seat off your face with the towel.

That’s the last straw.

Without warning, his hands are on your waist, and suddednly thrown over his shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes. You smack at his back, half-laughing, half-mortified. “Put me down! People are gonna see!”

“Let them,” he says smugly. “Maybe it’ll stop them from making the same dumb decision.” You go stiff for a second when you realize he’s not headed toward your room.

He noticed that you tensed up so he adds, "Someone’s gotta babysit,” he says, voice mock-sweet. “And I don’t trust you not to sneak off.”

“You’re dramatic.” You said, clearly annoyed.

“And you suck at resting.” He squeezes just above your bandage, you flinch. “See? Still not healing right.” You told him that you hate him.

“You’re a terrible liar," His voice dips, soft and smug. "But you’re about to be very, very good.”