Work Text:
Yevhen sat alone in his room, jaw clenched. He ran into an altercation with a demon a few hours ago when he attempted to explore the forest for resources to bring back to the village. As a result, a jagged piece of wood now protruded from his shoulder. He attempted to dress the wound one-handed, but after he started pulling the bandage tightly across the injury, a sharp stinging pain forced him to grunt loudly through his teeth.
“Nngh—!”
Yevhen’s arm trembled a bit, but he persisted and pulled the bandage tighter.
From somewhere in the shadows, he heard an abrupt voice matching an obscured face criticizing him, “You’re doing it wrong.”
It was Noven.
Yevhen, not bothering to face him, sarcastically replied, “I’m a soldier who has fought from hell and back. I think I know what I’m doing.”
Noven returned the acrid tone, “The only thing you know is how to haphazardly bandage yourself in order to save yourself from dying from shock on the battlefield before the REAL medical professionals arrive to save you.”
The doctor slowly made his way towards the wounded veteran, who was more than unwilling to admit weakness in front of the former despite the burning physical pain.
Noven continued anyway, “Leaving the fragment was the correct choice. Binding across it was not. You haven’t stabilized it yet, so every time you tighten this bandage, you’re shifting the piece deeper.”
His eyes traced the angle of the wound.
“And you have no idea what it's sitting against. It could be a muscle, nerve, or even a vessel. You are well aware of the notion of death, correct?”
Yevhen didn’t bite back this time.
“I can remove the wooden shard easily without letting you bleed out. Then, I can clean the wound properly and repair whatever left is damaged. Give me your shoulder.”
The taller blond man simply scoffed, “Did that medical degree put your head so far in the clouds you couldn’t hear me? Your concern is duly noted, but I don’t need your help. And I never will. I’ve survived worse without you.”
Suddenly, Yevhen’s entire body froze. He felt something cold…sharp…and metallic pressing on the edge of his lip. He didn’t even have time to react before he found Noven only a few inches away from his own face, staring directly into his cold sapphire eyes with dead ebony irises. Noven’s face was filled with darkness as if he was seriously willing to cut deep into Yevhen’s face if he dared to make another movement.
Noven muttered menacingly, “I wasn’t asking.”
A long silence.
…
It was broken by Yevhen, begrudgingly, “…Fine. But just this once. After this, we go our separate ways.”
Noven began putting on his gloves, “That was always the plan.”
Fin.