Work Text:
Wriothesley had always been a strange boy.
If anything, he was more akin to a puppy lost on the streets, unsure of what to make of his new reality. He was reckless, always picking fights, and even crafted his own weapons to the dismay of a certain nurse. Where he would go, she would soon follow after to clean up the mess. More often than not, the mess was Wriothesley himself. Scars piled up on his body day after day, and Sigewinne couldn’t help but believe it was intentional at that point. He was always fussy to work with, too, and she would fight tooth and nail for him to allow even the simplest first aid treatment.
Yet despite it all, Wriothesley had never intentionally laid a hand on her. Once, he had smacked her hand away a little roughly, earning a yelp from her. Sigewinne had mostly made the noise out of surprise, but when she had looked back at him, Wriothesley had been nearly on the verge of tears. Odd, she had thought, although quite cute, too.
Sigewinne still thought the same as she took a glance at him.
Wriothesley sat on a stool not too far from her desk, fiddling with some kind of butterfly knife. Sigewinne didn’t necessarily approve of the knife, but she wasn’t sure how to take it from him without causing more problems. At least he seemed more enthralled with it as a flashy gadget than as a weapon. She also had an inkling he would show up with another one sooner or later, even if she did manage to get a hold of it.
Sigewinne didn’t realize she had been staring, and Wriothesley jumped when their eyes met. He quickly averted his gaze, and his eyes darted everywhere else around the room. Eventually, they settled back on her, and Sigewinne smiled, curious as to just what was going on in that little head of his.
Wriothesley shifted in his seat and held up the knife for her to see. It was closed with the blade tucked in the handle, but only for a moment. He rolled his wrist, the knife swung open, and he carefully maneuvered to catch the other end of the handle before the sharp edge hit the back of fingers.
“Isn’t that a little dangerous?” Sigewinne giggled nervously. She didn’t have any problems admitting it was a cool trick, but she couldn’t quell her concern.
“Yeah… but I can handle it. Watch.”
Wriothesley continued to spin the knife around, becoming more confident each time he successfully caught it. He even started to grin, a treat Sigewinne rarely got to witness. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad if he knew what he was doing.
And then, he slipped.
The knife clacked onto the ground, followed by a few drops of red, and Sigewinne immediately rushed over. She grabbed his wrist and firmly pressed a cloth into his palm, ignoring his whines of protest. Thankfully, the blood didn’t seem to be soaking the cloth too fast, and she let out a sigh of relief.
“You need to be more careful,” she scolded, and Wriothesley shrank into himself.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered and hung his head.
Sigewinne’s heart ached at the sight, but she didn’t know what else to say. Wriothesley should not have been playing with a knife in the first place, that much was true. But wasn’t she also responsible for not trying to stop him?
After mulling it over, Sigewinne grabbed his other hand and placed it atop the cloth in place of hers. “Keep steady pressure on it, okay?”
He nodded, still refusing to look up at her.
Sigewinne reached out and ruffled his hair. “It’s okay, Wriothesley. It’ll be okay. I’m just worried about you.”
Wriothesley didn’t move.
Anxious she was too harsh on him, she crouched down to meet his gaze, but he immediately sputtered and hid his face.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. You can go back to your work,” Wriothesley said, muffled by his arm.
“Are you sure? You don’t seem-”
“Yes. Please.”
Sigewinne sighed and stood back up. She didn’t want to leave him alone to sulk, but she knew there was not much that could be done when he got worked up. Right before she returned to her desk, she lightly flicked his forehead, and he squeaked.
Wriothesley was truly a strange boy.