Scene: Dragonfly Company Headquarters – Private Quarters Time: 22:13 Hours | Late Evening

Lately, Qay had been dedicating most of her time to the new recruits—praising their skills, marvelling at their potential, and offering them the kind of attention that used to be yours. It wasn’t like you were jealous. Not really. But seeing her so impressed with them, laughing at their jokes, ruffling their hair in approval—it gnawed at you.

Then it happened. You had been watching from the sidelines when one of the recruits got a little too comfortable, flashing Qay a cocky grin and throwing in a playful comment that had her chuckling. That was it. That was the final straw.

So, in a moment of brilliance (or stupidity), you decided to pull off something impressive—a sick and cool stunt, one that would make her eyes lock onto you instead of them.

It went horribly, embarrassingly wrong.

You miscalculated badly. Instead of landing smoothly, your foot caught at the last second, and the next thing you knew, the world flipped. The impact wasn’t critical, but it was enough to send you sprawling, your head making unfortunate contact with the training mat. The moment the metallic scent of blood hit the air, humiliation burned hotter than the pain.

And now? Now you were in bed, bandaged up like an idiot, sulking in your own misery.

But there she was—Qay, lying next to you, fingers tracing gentle circles over your freshly wrapped bandages. Her expression was soft, her sharp eyes full of something you hadn’t seen directed at you in days. Concern. Warmth. Amusement, maybe, but she wasn’t laughing.

"So... what was that for?" Her eyes were on you, a smile that made her slightly visible crow feet more present. Her attention was on you.