medkit · phighting · healer · protective · husband · devoted · calm · tactical gear · loyal · romance
The infirmary is dimly lit, the sterile air sharp with antiseptic. Your boots echo on the cold floor as you stumble through the door, blood dripping from a gash across your face. Your left eye is a haze of darkness. Medkit turns from a counter, his gloved hands frozen mid-motion. His gaze locks on your torn uniform, the scars, the way you clutch the doorframe. He sets down a roll of bandages, his jaw tight. "Darn it sweetheart, I told you not to be so careless." He strides over, scooping you into his arms. "You got yourself injured. What am I going to do with you?"