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Touring buses are, generally, an exciting experience. Rehearsals with your band, gawking at the many cities traveled to perform, having the opportunity to skip training with your senior police officers because of the shows—all in all, perfection.
Though not as much so, when you sprain your wrist while drumming.
“Shit,” You groaned mid-practice, letting go of the drum sticks, a ‘thump’ heard as they hit the ground of the bus. You held your injured wrist as the rest of the band paused strumming their own instruments, looking at you expectedly. You shook your head. “Sprained wrist.”
Daryan set his bass guitar against the wall while Klavier walked over. Jess, the keyboardist, clicked her tongue and gave you a sympathetic smile.
“Ach, how bad is it?” He stopped in front of the drumset.
You waved him off with your injured wrist, hissing as the pain surged. Hearing Daryan snicker and Jess sigh only increased your frustration.
“Guys I'm fine, let's continue. Last song, anyway!”
“Nein, let's have our break early. We can't afford to injure your wrist more, not while the closest doctor is hours away from here.”
As much as you wanted to argue, you stood and followed the band outside of the rehearsing hall. Having made it to a more suitable location to sit, you waited on a couch while Klavier fetched someone who at least had some knowledge on how bandages are supposed to be tied. Daryan went to his quarters to rest, leaving you alone with Jess, who seated herself beside you on the couch, giving you a reassuring smile once you met her gaze.
The interaction ended once two individuals entered the room; Klavier alongside a staff—security. The latter seated themselves in front of you beside a stool carrying few items; an ice pack, bandag—
“Fuck!” The pain coursed through your nerves as the icepack met your swollen wrist. The staff gently brought your wrist which you had pulled away back to the front, and once you gave a reluctant nod, they continued.
Jess squeezed your shoulder as you fought every urge to wince. You gave a grateful look back.
Slender fingers pushed away hair accumulated at the front of your face. You were about to thank Jess before realising, one; they were tanned, and two—they came from the opposite direction.
Slowly, you turned your head to the side and saw him giving you a gentle smile.
“Sorry,” You blurted out, making Klavier’s expression change from comforting to confused.
“For what?” He tilted his head, his bangs falling in front of his eyes. You resisted every urge to put them behind his ear.
It was predictable but not at the same time—a bandmate having a crush on another. Klavier was conventionally attractive, sure, but you never imagined being attractive to those of his character. Flashy, flirty, and the party of the room.
All of it seemed so far away now, with nothing but concern chipping away at his beautiful face.
You felt a slight nudge from the back before a voice spoke out:
“Oh, I completely forgot I had work to do!”
Jess sprang up from the couch, giving you a knowing look and hiding a smirk. A glare did nothing for her to stay.
She gave a wave to the both of you before getting off to her quarters, leaving you alone with Klavier.
Well with the security staff also, but that didn't do much for your nerves. They weren't that good, but with the lack of medically trained staff, you went along with it.
With the ice pack melted, they began wrapping a bandage around your less-swollen-wrist-than-before, but what made you flinch wasn't the material hitting your bruised skin, but the touch of Klavier's fingers on your hand.
You bit the inside of your cheek and decided to just squeeze his hand back. Although you were expecting him to pull away, his hand stayed, and rubbed the back of yours in soothing motions.
Your pain melted.
As the staff finished, you stood from the couch, Klavier following soon after, and the three of you separated ways making it to the main hallways. Slowly entering your room, you replayed everything that had happened that evening.
The moments with Klavier? Amazing. The possible repercussions to having sprained your wrist? Not so much. You were touring cities for god’s sake—delaying shows is not a good look for a band, even after releasing a single and it reaching platinum so soon.
You weren't sure for how long you were lying on the bed sulking before a knock jolted you out of your thoughts. Figuring it was Jess, you curled up on the bed further and replied a ‘come in’.
The door shut softly—red flag number one as Jess loved to fuck with everyone on bus and make as much noise as humanly possible—and the figure sat on the edge of the bed quietly; red flag number two, she would have started rambling already about your interaction with Klavie—
“Hey,” A smooth voice spoke, one that definitely did not belong to a keyboardist. “You alright?”
You immediately uncurled yourself which only made you closer to him. Getting in a sitting position, careful to not hurt your wrist, you blinked.
“Yes,” You replied, eyeing what he had in his hands. He followed your gaze and chuckled.
“They told me to give some ibuprofen to you; it should help more with the pain,” He explained handing you the bottle of pills along with water. You immediately took it without hesitation.
Taking them, you sighed and kept both contents on the bedside table. “I was sorry for the fact that we might have… to cancel the show for tomorrow.”
At your sudden statement, he stared at you blankly. You took the cue to explain.
“You were asking me in the evening,” You muttered, looking at your wrist.
“It's already been postponed to a later date,” He whispered back.
You whipped your head to his. “What?! We can't—”
“You are not performing with a bad wrist.” He interrupted in a firm tone. “You're going to heal before we continue with the last of our tours, whether it takes days, weeks, or months.”
The hyperbole only made you feel more guilty, and the pill you took earlier threatened to make a resurface. “Right, but—” Your rebuttal died down as he stared at you defiantly. He definitely wasn't going to budge. “It's.. only a wrist sprain, so probably it'll take a few days at most.”
He shrugged. “I'm not sure about the severity of the sprain, but what I am sure of, is that you'll heal soon. Don't stress it,” He added with a soft smile.
Almost giving a smile back, your breath hitched as he absentmindedly ran his fingers around the edge of your bandages. He didn't seem to notice, though, so you replied in a voice with as non-breathiness as possible.
“Thank you."
He chuckled back. His touch lingered before he pulled away and stood.
“I should leave now. Rest your wrist, Schatzi.”
You bit back every urge to make him stay and nodded as nonchalantly as you could; though the random nickname caught you off-guard. Point to remember; translate whatever that was as soon as you get the time.
You fell back on your bed as the door shut. Despite the phantom warmth of the touches still tingling in your skin, your thoughts slowly drifted to make way for exhaustion. Although dinner was soon, a nap wouldn't hurt.
Exhaustion made your eyelids feel heavy, and you eventually fell asleep with a certain blond plaguing your dreams.