It didn’t help that you were there, poorly hiding your snickering while cracking an ice pack for him.

All the boy wanted to do was impress you, show you that he was tough and that he learned some of this super cool martial art form, but that had backfired incredibly. Were people still laughing at him outside? Are you as flustered as he is? Was Morgan going to continue training him?

“Here, Dana said if you ice it long enough there shouldn’t be too much of a bump.”

Benjamin reluctantly opens his eyes and takes the pack from you. You sit down beside him as he holds the ice pack to his forehead and pouts; you smile at him.

“Stop it.” He groans half heartedly, turning his head away.

“Stop what?”

“Making fun of me.”

“I didn’t say anything.” You defend, voice light.

“But you’re looking at me.”

You laugh again, wrapping your arms around him and pressing a chaste kiss to his face.

“You’re pretty. I like looking at pretty things.”

His face burns redder than it was before, and his free arm wraps around you slowly. You stifle your teasing in favor of resting your head on him, humming softly and rubbing circles on his shoulder with your thumb.

A short while later, when the ice pack has melted past the point of being any help, he removes it and looks at you expectantly.

“So?”

“Aw it’s only a little bump— you’re going to be fine.”