Work Text:
It’s rather simple really.
You don’t like blood.
You suspect no one really does, but you really hate it.
It makes you seize up, breathe fast, feel nauseous, panic really.
So when you cut your thumb while cutting up some pork for dinner, you stop mid conversation as you gasp and drop the knife on the cutting board. It’s not deep, but you can see a little blood already making its way to the surface of your skin.
It takes Aaron calling your name a few times before you look up at him.
“Are you okay?” He asks, eyes gentle and clearly reading your face.
“Yeah, I just, ah, don’t....”
“Really like blood?” Hotch steps into you personal space, cradling your injured hand in his own two, efficiently hiding the blood from you sight, although you can still feel the slight sting where you cut yourself.
“Yeah...”
“Come here.” Aaron leads you to the bathroom, never letting go of your hand. You sit down on the closed toilet lid as he finds the first aid supplies
“Sorry.” You say as he starts cleaning your hand
“What for?”
“For freaking out over so little blood. Like you do just fine with a lot more serious things at work.” Aaron hums as he places a bandaid on your thumb, kissing it before shifting so he’s holding your hand.
“I don’t mind. Small things like this reminds me that not everything is terrible, and the horrors I see in my work is not the norm.”
“All that just from me cutting my thumb?” You sound a little disbelieving, but you are smiling at him.
“Yes, all that from you cutting my thumb. You remind of normal and domestic things, and I love that. Now come on, lets finish dinner.” He drags up and you can’t help but pull him close give him a little kiss.
“I love you too.”