#i restarted it like 3 times because i kept having different ideas AHHHHH

[straykits]

heylo ~ i rushed here when i saw you had opened reqs sjjdkd for the hand holding prompts, can i request 33 + hyunjin ;-; please and thank you <3

@drunkwater: i saw that you're taking reqs so.. could you maybe write 33 with hyunjin please? i wanna wrap his poor hand and then kiss it so baddd ty in advance <3

prompt 33: bandaging the other's hand and not quite letting go

hi friends!! thanks for req'ing. i was surprised to get two of the same reqs :0 i'm also a massive liar, saying the pieces would be about 300-500words vjksvdskfs anyways, here it is. sorry for the long wait :( and sorry there is no hand kissing either jdskfnds

warnings: wounds/blood (very minimal), errr i think thats all

wc: 1.3k HAHAHA

The fire blazes bright as you throw in a new piece of wood. Though the castle walls were brilliant at trapping the cold night air in, you had made it a personal mission to always keep your small infirmary warm. Nothing could be worse than having wounded patients subject themselves to the cold when they were already in pain.

It was late, now, and you were the only nurse left in the infirmary. The time of war had long passed, and thus there were few who were injured - the need for medical attention was at an all time low. At most, there would be two people working during the day, and extra hands called in only when necessary.

Wiping your hands on your apron, you stand up from in front of the flickering flames. The warmth leaves your face and instead wraps around your legs, but you step away, stripping yourself of the comfort.

Not that the entire infirmary was entirely cold. You knew, without a doubt, that beyond the door of your work area was a colder environment.

And you’re proven right as the door swings open, a gush of cold air chasing away whatever warmth had remained around you.

Hyunjin walks through the infirmary door for the third time this week, a polite smile greeting you briefly before he turns to pull the door shut.

“Y/n,” he greets, having stopped the cold air from entering. “Has the night been busy? I apologise for coming so late today.”

You let out a laugh, moving to the little alcove in which all your supplies were kept and in doing so, miss the twitch of his lips.

“No need; I’m just glad you made it.” You pick up a jar of ointment in one hand, the other reaching for the one of the many rolls of bandages, and place them in one of your apron’s many pockets. “With your job, the buildup of sweat and dirt on your hand puts you at risk of an infection, so better late than never.”

Hyunjin is situated on a bed when you return to the main area, a bowl of clean water in your hand. The fingers fingers of his right hand are flexing gently as he stares down at his injured hand. You could tell, even from a distance, that the bandages from yesterday were already dirty, and there had been an attempt to re-tie it around the hand.

“’With my job’? I can barely hold up a sword.” He laughs, and though not a bitter one, the regret is evident in his eyes.

Pulling up a chair next to the bed, you sit down and hold your hand out. His injured hands finds its way to yours, resting palm down. His fingers wrap casually around your hand, though his eyes avert yours and instead search the room as if it were his first time here.

You untie the knot that had probably been made earlier that day, and start to unravel the bandage. As the layers get whiter, a comfortable silence takes its place next to the crackling of the fire.

The wound, a deep laceration across his palm, had been caused by a comrade’s knife. A drunken brawl between two had gotten out of hand and Hyunjin, being the voice of reason, had stepped in.

While the wound was healing, continuous movement of the hand throughout the day had prolonged the process. You had attempted telling Hyunjin to just take a few days of rest, but he had adamantly refused - it was his job, the cut was “nothing” - and so the best you could result to was frequent treatment.

Now exposed, you assess the cut. No sign of infection thus far, though it did seem to have opened slightly at one point - dry blood was evident on his palm. You dab at it with a wet cloth, and then wipe off his hand before applying some ointment.

His hand jerks from yours in surprise at the cold substance, a mumbled apology reaching your ears as you readjust your grip on his hand. There’s a small smile on your lips as you pull the ointment across the cut, the thumb of your other hand holding his hand open. The ointment glides smoothly across the cut, a gently sigh in the face of pain.

“You’ve very gentle hands.”

The words break not only the silence, but your stream of actions. Your fingers halt their movement, his soft words having a stronger impact than you ever thought they would. You could almost hear the blood rush to your ears, could almost feel the way your stomach did a strange little flip.

You will your hands to move, to apply the rest of the ointment and pick up the bandage roll.

Hyunjin, having noticed your brief pause, clears his throat. “It’s what makes you so good at your job. You know, I wouldn’t want someone else- someone who uses too much force to bandage my hand. I might lose it.”

His attempt at humour falls on silence, his light chuckle cut short when he realises you weren’t reacting.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t heard him - you were just too focussed on not letting your hand shake, on keeping it steady as it supports his. You pull the bandage around his palm a few more times, before tying it lightly and tucking it in.

Turning his hand over in yours, you observe your work. It falls palm down over your fingers, and just as you confirm that all had been done well, his fingers tighten around yours,

“Sorry.”

Eyes look up, meeting his nervous ones.

“I didn’t mean to say that and make it awkward. I just-” his face scrunches up, fingers curling around yours just a bit tighter. “It kind of just… slipped out.”

Your gaze flickers back down to his bandaged hand wrapped around yours. Small scars were scattered across his knuckles, and you can’t help but think how the largest of scars on his hands was about to form across his palm, a hardened surface across the softest of places.

Finally, you let out an exhale and rest your free hand on top of his. The action seems to take Hyunjin by shock, his body visibly tensing before relaxing with his own exhale. You pat his hand once, twice, before standing up. He drops your hand, and you move to tidy up.

“Thank you for the compliment. It’s a good thing you won’t be losing the hand, then.” You give him a smile - too forced, you feel it was, but his words had made you all nervous and you felt incapable of acting normal - and take his hand off of yours. “Now, remember not to use your hand too much. It looks like the wound was about to open up again, so be careful. If that happens, you’ll be seeing me a lot more than just a week.”

Your hands occupied with things to pack up and dispose of, you walk away from the bed.

“A blessing in disguise, if you ask me.” Though your back is to him, you can tell there’s some type of confidence and sense of accomplishment surrounding him. You could picture the raise of his lips, the light in his eyes.

“For now, it’ll just be tomorrow, Hyunjin.” You busy your hands with tidying up, forcing yourself not to turn back and catch the beautiful smile you know he has on his face right now. Your face was warm - but it was because of your proximity to the fireplace, you tell yourself. “Tomorrow.”

Light steps grow further away from you, and you hear the door start to creak.

“I’ll look forward to it, then. Sweet dreams, y/n.”

When he opens the infirmary door this time, you don’t feel the cold.