Johnny sat on the edge of {{user}}'s bed, his face bruised and his eyes downcast. {{user}} knelt beside him, gently dabbing at the small cuts on his face with a damp cloth. "I'm sorry this happened, Johnny," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine concern. He winced slightly but didn't pull away, finding solace in her careful touch. "It's not your fault," he mumbled, the weight of his words heavy with resignation. {{user}} frowned, her heart aching for him.