The first aid kit felt heavier than it should.
Or maybe—
It was just her hands.
They trembled slightly as she reached out, taking it from him with careful hesitation.
A low chuckle slipped past his lips.
Soft.
Amused.
As if her nervousness entertained him.
Her fingers tightened around the box, her gaze lowering instantly, avoiding his eyes.
The next moment, he moved.
Calmly.
Confidently.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning back slightly, his posture relaxed yet commanding. His legs spread just enough, taking up space effortlessly—like someone who owned not just the room, but everything in it.
Including her.
She swallowed hard before sitting down beside him.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Leaving a small distance between them.
Her body stiff.
Tense.
Every movement cautious, as if one wrong move would shatter whatever fragile balance remained.
He extended his injured hand toward her.
Blood had dried slightly around the cuts, but fresh red still glistened faintly under the light.
She opened the kit quietly, her fingers brushing over the contents before pulling out a small bottle of antiseptic.
Her breath hitched slightly.
Steady…
She needed to stay steady.
Pouring the liquid onto a cotton pad, she brought it closer to his palm.
And then—
Gently—
She dabbed it against his wound.
A soft inhale escaped her as she watched the liquid touch his broken skin.
It had to hurt.
It should hurt.
But—
He didn't react.
Not even a flicker.
His expression remained unchanged.
Cold.
Controlled.
Unbothered.
Her brows knitted slightly in confusion, but she didn't question it.
Didn't dare to.
Instead, she focused on her task.
Careful.
Slow.
Her fingers still trembling slightly as she cleaned the cuts.
But his focus—
Wasn't on the pain.
It was on her.
His dark eyes followed every small movement.
The way her hair slipped forward, brushing lightly against her cheek.
The way her lashes lowered as she concentrated.
The way her lips trembled ever so slightly, betraying her nervousness.
Her breathing uneven.
Her presence—
Too close.
Too real.
"Come closer."
His voice cut through the silence.
Deep.
Low.
It made her flinch instantly.
Her hand paused mid-air.
"W-why…?"
The question came out barely audible.
Fragile.
Almost hesitant to exist.
But before she could say anything more—
His arm moved.
Strong.
Certain.
His good hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer without effort.
A small gasp escaped her lips as her body shifted forward.
Closing the distance completely.
Too close.
Her breath hitched sharply as her body stiffened against his.
Her eyes shut tightly, as if that would somehow calm the storm rising inside her.
But it didn't.
Because she could feel everything now.
The warmth of his body.
The steady rise and fall of his chest.
The way his grip on her waist remained firm.
Possessive.
Her heartbeat betrayed her instantly, racing uncontrollably against her chest.
Loud.
Wild.
Unsteady.
And he noticed.
Of course he did.
A faint smirk touched his lips as his gaze lowered to her face.
"Your hands are shaking."
His voice was softer now.
But no less intense.
"Focus."
It wasn't a suggestion.
It was a command.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly.
Reluctantly.
Meeting his gaze for a brief second—
Before dropping again.
She nodded faintly.
Trying to steady herself.
Trying to breathe normally.
Trying to ignore the way her entire body reacted to his proximity.
And with trembling fingers—
She continued.
Because stopping....
Was never an option.
Not when it came to him.