#duster awan

You stood from the couch and walked briskly to the bathroom door that had been left slightly ajar. "I'm coming in," you said as you heard a slight groan in response. With little effort, you pushed past the door and your eyes widened. "What happened?"

Awan was hunched over the sink, hissing in pain as he tried applying an antiseptic to a nasty cut and bruise that coated his left eye. One of the shelves—the one he had promised to fix—had toppled over, spilling first aid equipment all over the sink and floor.

"It's just a bruise, not a big deal," he assured you, quickly covering his eye despite you having seen the damage. He turned from the mirror and leaned against the sink, producing a pained smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Unconvinced, you lifted a brow and reached up to tug at his wrist. Reluctantly, Awan's hand fell away from his face, along with his smile.

"It looks a lot worse than it feels," he quickly said, lips moving quickly to sway you away from your scolding. "I've had paper cuts in the office worse than this—"

You gave his hand a squeeze before reaching for a nearby cotton swab. Wordlessly, Awan squeezed your hand back before sitting on the edge of the tub. He was no longer towering over you, making it easier for you to take care of him. Carefully, you began wiping at the cut right below his left eyebrow.

You worked diligently to clean the scratch as Awan told you what happened. There happened to be a nasty scuffle at the office and he happened to be in the way of a fist or two. Although you were no doctor, you didn't think he any sort of orbital fracture. Just a scar and really nasty purple bruise.

"It comes with the job," he said, his long arms wrapping slowly around your waist as he tugged you towards him. You stumbled forward, though straightened a bit as your finger slid the bandage over the cut. "No need to worry about me."

You let your defense down and looked into his eyes. "Please be careful, next time? No more fights." You stuck out your pinky, your lips turning into a slight smirk. You knew his job had been his first love and that he had no intentions of parting with it soon. After all, he sacrificed the comforts of familiarity, his family, and lifestyle to maintain it. He'd be darned to give that up over petty office tensions.

Awan's signature grin came to fruition. "No more intentional fights on my end, I can promise you that." He stuck out his pinky and wrapped it around yours.