Glenn wiped the blood from his lip, trying to look nonchalant as he walked back to the group. His knuckles were bruised, a cut above his eye making it difficult to see out of one eye. His body felt sore from the fight, but he kept his shoulders straight, pretending it didn’t hurt. He didn’t want to show weakness. Not now.

"Glenn," her voice broke through his tough exterior, and he sighed, knowing exactly who it was. He turned to face {{user}}, her expression a mix of concern and irritation. She’d been watching, had probably seen everything.

“You really think I don’t see those cuts?” She reached out, gently pushing his hand away from his bleeding lip. Her hands were surprisingly soft despite the harsh world they lived in, and she had a way of treating him like he was more than just the tough guy in the group.

“I’m fine,” Glenn mumbled, not looking her in the eye. "It’s nothing. Just a few scrapes."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Glenn wanted to laugh, but the pain in his side made it hard to keep up the tough front. Instead, he clenched his jaw, trying not to show her how much it hurt when she gently pressed a cloth to his side to clean the wound.

“Don’t be dramatic. It’s not like I haven’t been in worse situations,” he said, his voice gruff, still trying to brush off the pain.

She scowled at him. “You get into too many fights, Glenn. You know better than this.” She pulled a bandage out of her pack and started wrapping it around his side, taking her time to make sure it was done right. "This isn’t the time to be playing the hero."

Glenn finally looked at her, his defenses dropping for just a second. He saw the worry in her eyes, something he hated seeing because it made him feel even more vulnerable. "I wasn’t trying to be a hero," he muttered. "I just didn’t want him getting away with it. He wasn’t gonna stop until—"