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Feeling arms slide around his shoulders, Gladio sighed and caught onto one wrist as Eerie pressed against his back. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said softly, nuzzling against his hair. “You alright?”
How did he even answer that? Looking down at the hand resting across his leg, he shrugged. The pain was dulling thanks to the meds but he knew it was there. It wasn’t just the pain that was weighing on him, though.
She kissed his hair before slipping around to straddle the bench beside him. “It’s not a bad thing, Gladio,” she told him, gently picking up his arm. “You’re only human after all.”
Clenching his teeth, he looked away, staring across the room. He heard her sigh and felt her fingers lightly run over his wrist. Even though her touch was barely there, a low hiss still left him. He’d been told years ago, when it had first happened, that this was a possibility but he’d taken care of it. He’d done everything that they’d told him to do to prevent it and it had still happened.
“It’s not that bad,” Eerie insisted.
“How is it not that bad?” he asked. “How am I supposed to defend Noct when I can barely hold the damn sword I was given?”
She sighed again, harsher this time. “Well, you’re not going to with that fucking attitude.”
His head jerked back to her, a snarl on his lips. She didn’t react, staring firmly at him and not letting go of his arm. “What does my attitude have to do with a fucked up wrist?”
“Your wrist has been fucked up for years, Gladio. There was no getting around it, not with the way the bones broke the first time.”
He eyed her, slowly saying, “How do you know that?”
One shoulder shrugged, her shirt slipping further down it. Any other day he would have appreciated the black lace he saw but neither of them were in a mood for that. “I looked at your file,” she admitted. “When you started complaining about the pain, I looked into it to see if I could help.”
“You could have asked me,” he growled.
“I did and you told me to keep my medic nose out of it.”
Gladio pulled back a little, feeling the sting in her words. He had said that. He’d been in pain because he’d pushed his wrist too far, but he had said that.
“Besides, I can get more out of looking at an x-ray than I would have what you told me.”
“Are you allowed to do that?” he muttered.
She was quiet for a long moment. “Probably not.”
He flicked her a look when she slowly started rubbing against his wrist, her touch moving up his arm. “What am I supposed to do, Eerie? What kind of Shield am I if I’m already breaking and I’m only twenty-two?”
“Considering how hard you push yourself you should be thankful you haven’t done more damage to yourself.”
“Eerie….”
“You take care of it, Gladio,” she sighed.
“I was!”
Cool fingers touched his chin and turned him to look fully at her. “Were you?” she asked evenly.
Gladio pulled back a little, returning her stare. “I take care of myself,” he said lowly.
“You also push yourself beyond what normal people do. I know, it comes with the job of being a Crownsguard and Shield but when was the last time you actually talked to a doctor about your wrist? Before it started hurting like this?”
He squirmed on the bench. He saw a doctor regularly for the usual check ups but his wrist hadn’t been a part of it.
“So were you following the advice you were given five years ago that suited your life then but maybe not necessarily now?”
She made him sound stupid when she put it that way.
Eyra sighed and leaned forward, kissing him slowly. “You big lug,” she murmured. “You gotta change, babe, or this is going to get worse. If you don’t let me help you, if you don’t change what you’re doing, I don’t know if there’s anything in the world, science or magic, that will fix you the way you want.”
Sucking on his cheek, he looked away from her again. He’d been stubborn about it, taking the advice that was years old. He’d still been careful, minding what they had said, but he hadn’t taken any of that other stuff into consideration.
He felt his hand move a little and glanced down. He frowned at the tape Eerie was winding around his wrist and hand. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not letting this be an impasse, Gladio,” she said without lifting her gaze from his arm. “Your too important for me to let you be stubborn about this. So we’re going to try something new, we’re going to keep trying something new until we find something that works for you.”
“Do I get a say in the matter?” he asked mildly.
“No.”
He laughed shortly. “You skipped all the classes on bedside manner, I swear.”
“I’m not being a medic right now. I mean, I am,” she corrected after a second, “but I’m still your girlfriend and I said that as your girlfriend. So if you’re being stupid I get to call you on it.”
“Uh huh,” he said dryly.
She let him go and stood up. “You don’t have to do anything I suggest-”
“Oh, shut up,” he growled, hooking his arm around her waist to pull her back to him. His wrist throbbed at the action but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he expected.
Her fingers curled into his shirt over his shoulders. “If you’re worried about people commenting on it or thinking less of you for having to wrap it, wear something over it. A glove. A sleeve. Anything. Just start wrapping it better.”
“A glove? You want me to run around with just one glove on? What are people going to think of that?”
“Gladio…both the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive run around in leather outfits that are practically bedazzled in silver ornaments and furs and ribbons. You really think any of them are going to comment on you maybe wearing a single glove when you’re training or fighting?”
“Your brother know you think his uniform is bedazzled?”
She shrugged, but he could see her fighting a smile. “Nyx knows I think it’s ridiculous. I think it’s part of the reason why he chose what he did. I can only imagine what you’re going to pick when you finally get proper Crownsguard gear.”
“Hey now,” he protested, “I have good taste. I picked you, didn’t I?”
“Your taste in women is far better than your taste in clothes, big guy.”