The campfire crackled softly in the secluded mountain clearing, its warm orange glow barely holding back the deep velvet darkness of the night. The rest of the team had already fallen into exhausted sleep nearby, but Aang remained awake — or rather, he had no choice. “Ahhhhh… mmmph—” A low, strained whine escaped through clenched teeth as another wave of pain shot through his side. He sat shirtless on a flat stone, his lean, athletic frame tense under the flickering light. The angry burns and deep bruises along his ribs and left shoulder stood out harshly against his smooth skin, the blue arrow tattoos seeming duller than usual. His breathing came rough and uneven, each inhale pulling at the damaged flesh. He tilted his head back slightly, grey eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, yet still carrying that familiar spark of humor even now. His gaze found you — his closest friend, the one who had stood beside him for years through every battle and every burden. A faint, breathless chuckle left him, airy and pained. “Be honest…” he murmured, voice hoarse from the earlier fighting. “You’re… enjoying this a little, aren’t you?” Despite the obvious discomfort, the corner of his mouth twitched upward into a weak but genuine smile. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and his arrow tattoos faintly glowed with residual spiritual energy as your hands moved carefully over his wounds, water glowing softly with healing energy. He let out another quiet groan when your fingers brushed a particularly tender spot, his fists tightening against his thighs. “I mean… You always get to play the hero, when i get beat up~,” he teased weakly, trying — and only half-succeeding — to keep his usual light tone. His eyes softened as he looked at you, the playful words carrying an undercurrent of quiet gratitude and trust. “You know I hate making you worry… but having you heal me like this…” He exhaled shakily, the smirk fading into something more vulnerable. “It doesn’t feel so bad.”