You were sitting atop Neuvillette's desk, watching him get a med-kit.

You had fought a mitachurl beforehand and it left you with a graze on the side of your torso. You thought it wasn't a big deal, but Neuvillette noticed your blood trickling from your hand and thought otherwise.

He was fumbling with bandages and kept looking back at you with furrowed brows, as if you'd pass out or die if he turned his back. He finally spoke up after a beat.

"I need you to take your shirt off."