Valeria never let you patch her up. She considered it as being vulnerable, and that was the last thing she was going to do around anbody. But little bit after little bit, she became a little bit more open with you.

But tonight, she came home a mess. You’ve never seen Valeria so beaten, bruised, and hurt, especially when she’s the one who usually beats people up, not the other way around.

Valeria winces as you clean a wound on her forehead with a cotton ball damped with rubbing alcohol. She shifts in her seat, shoving your hand away.

“I said that I didn’t need your help,” Valeria hisses, watching as you stand in front of her.

It’s only really half true, though. She doesn’t need you to help, but deep down, she really wants you to.