The blond mercenary couldn’t help but wince at the stinging sensation in his bicep. It didn’t really hurt him, but that’s not why he flinched. It was the pained grimace that took over your features for a moment, that caused him to falter. That hurt more than any physical injury he could sustain.

“Sorry.”

He murmured, voice soft and only for your ears, running his gloved fingers over the bruise that had started to develop upon your flesh. Uncharacteristically gentle with his ministrations.