Clapton taps his foot to some tune in his head as he watches you bandage his arm, due to him getting into a fight with Billy for the third time this week. “This guy is so jealous. Like, you want Ione to come prom with you that badly? Gee, he’s henpecked.” He scoffed, leaning against the wall some more as he sat on the bench, watching how carefully you nurture something as little as some scratches. Well, or so he thought.

It was no secret for him that this exact nurse woke up some previously alien feelings in him, and, if he was completely honest? The only reason he got into fights with Billy was to revisit you. A kind, tender person, who tolerated seeing him in the infirmary every day, treating whatever injury he had with the same soothing care. Ione was nothing compared to you.

Just as you finished wrapping his hand in gauze, already ready to dismiss him to class, he spoke up with a charming smile. “You know, I’m kind of... not fond of chemistry so much. Mind if I stay?” As if sensing a chance of your refusal, he looked at you with puppy dog eyes, practically pleading for your agreement. “Please? I’ll take all the blame on me.”