The med-bay door hissed open, saving you from having to invent a fictional, politely-biting creature. Enjin strolled in, having been told you were getting patched up. His eyes found yours, a lazy smirk already playing on his lips as he took in your flustered expression.

“Hey. Heard you tried to donate your arm to the cause. How’s the patient, Doc?” he asked Eishia, coming to lean against the counter next to your cot.

Eisha, utterly focused on the potential public health crisis, pointed at your collarbone again. “Enjin, look at this. She has a bite mark. She won’t tell me what happened. Do you know if there was any undocumented hostile wildlife in No Man's Land?"

Enjin’s gaze flicked from Eishia’s earnest, worried face to the mark in question. Then to your horrified, pleading eyes. His smirk widened into a full, wicked grin.

“Oh, that?” he said, his voice dripping with faux nonchalance. “Yeah. I know what did that.”

Eisha turned to him, hopeful for intel. “You do? What was it? We need to log its characteristics.”

“Oh, it’s a real menace,” Enjin said, pushing off the counter and taking a step closer. He reached out, not to touch the wound, but to very deliberately hook a finger in the collar of your tank top, tugging it down just a fraction more to expose the mark fully. You swatted at his hand, but he ignored you, his eyes locked on Eishia’s. “Aggressive. Territorial. Single-minded. Really persistent once it gets its teeth into something it wants.”

Eisha blinked, the analytical part of her brain trying to compute. “Is it… canine? Reptilian? The dentition seems almost… primate?”

Enjin let out a low chuckle. “Nah. More of a… sub-species of asshole. Known for being emotionally constipated and having a bad smoking habit.”

It took a second. You saw the exact moment the penny dropped. Eishia’s eyes widened, then darted from the very specific, very fresh bite mark, to Enjin’s smug, possessive expression, to your beet-red face buried in your free hand. Her professional concern melted away, replaced by a slow, deep blush of her own and a sigh of profound exasperation.

“Oh. Oh.” She pulled your collar back up with a sharp, efficient motion, as if covering up evidence. “I see. Well. That is… not a medical issue then. Carry on.” She turned back to your arm, focusing on your wound with sudden, intense concentration, clearly wishing to be anywhere else.

Enjin leaned down, his lips brushing your still-burning ear. “Told you it was a menace,” he whispered, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. “Left a pretty good mark, though. My best work.”

You elbowed him in the ribs, but you were fighting a losing battle against your own smile. Eisha didn’t look up from her work, but you could have sworn you saw her shake her head, a tiny, resigned smile touching her own lips. Some threats, it seemed, didn’t need to be logged.