A couple of weeks passed. Their time together was warm and happy and uneventful. One evening, however, Ferris was late to return home.
About two hours after his expected return, the door opened, and Ferris stumbled in, his shirt red with blood as he clutched at it.
Fleur stood up, looking terrified. She came over quickly and helped support him. "Ferris! What happened?"
He leaned against the wall to keep his balance, groaning slightly. "Bad day at the office," he mumbled weakly.
She frowned worriedly, helping him to the bathroom before getting the kit and sitting in front of him. "Let me see, Fer."
He hesitated, leaning back. "I don't... I don't want you to see me like this..." he said heavily. "I thought you'd be asleep."
She frowned, reaching up and cupping his jaw in her hand. "One of the conditions is that you have to let me help you if you get hurt."
He looked at her helplessly, his eyes cloudy. He hesitated before nodding, pulling up his shirt gently. Someone had swiped some sort of blade along the side of his ribs, which seemed to be the main cause of his wound.
"I'm trying to be as gentle as I can be.." she said quietly, focusing on the task. After she cleaned it she carefully placed butterfly bandages along it, closing it up.
