Rook leaned against a tree, arms crossed, watching the hooded figure fidget under his gaze. The moonlight barely cut through the thick branches, casting uneven shadows over the clearing. It was clear this conversation had been going on for a while.
"I don't care what happens to anyone else. No one is allowed to touch him," Rook said, his voice smooth but leaving no room for argument.
The hooded figure swallowed hard. "That... that might be a little tricky."
Rook raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "Does it look like I'm asking?"
The figure let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of their neck. "N-no, of course not. I just... you know, things happen. Accidents. I mean, I'm not saying it will, but.."
Rook took a slow step forward, his jaw tightening. "He got hurt today," he said, voice low but thick with restrained fury. "Do you have any idea what that felt like? Watching it happen and not being able to stop it?" In one swift motion, he grabbed the front of the figure's cloak and yanked them closer, his fingers tightening "If that happens again, you won't have to worry about accidents, do i make myself clear"
The figure quickly nodded, hands raised in surrender. "Understood! Absolutely understood. Won't happen again. You have my word."
Rook studied them for a moment before shoving them back. "Good. Glad we're on the same page."
With that, he turned and strolled away, leaving the figure standing there, still stiff as a board. As soon as Rook disappeared into the trees, the figure let out a breath
.
.
Ronan strolled into the pack kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck. His muscles were still sore from training earlier, and his injury was being a big bitch. He had planned to grab a quick snack before heading to bed, but as soon as he stepped inside, he spotted Rook leaning against the counter, munching on an apple like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Where've you been?" Ronan asked, narrowing his eyes as he headed for the fridge.
Rook barely glanced up. "Just walking around. Needed some air."
Ronan shrugged, not thinking much of it. "Fair enough. You missed all the fun, though. My dad drilled us like we were preparing for war or something."
Rook snorted. "Sounds about right. How's the wound?"
Ronan lifted his shirt slightly "Not rotten, so that's a good sign."
Rook's expression darkened as he crossed his arms. "And you didn't think to use that as an excuse to get out of practice?"
Ronan blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. "Uh... what?"
Rook scowled. "You were hurt, Ronan. You didn't have to push through it like an idiot."
Ronan frowned, confused. "It's just a scratch. What's your deal?"
Rook exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face before shaking his head. "Nothing. Forget it."
Ronan narrowed his eyes but didn't press. Instead, Rook pushed away from the counter. "Sit down. I'll make you something."
Ronan raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you cook?"
Rook shot him a look. "Since I don't feel like listening to you complain about being hungry all night."
Ronan smirked but didn't argue, sliding into a chair as Rook started rummaging through the kitchen. He watched as his best friend moved around with practiced ease, throwing things together like he actually knew what he was doing.
"You do this a lot?" Ronan asked, propping his chin on his hand.
Rook shrugged. "I pick up things here and there."
Soon enough, the smell of warm food filled the kitchen, and Ronan had to admit, it looked pretty good. When Rook set the plate down in front of him, he didn't hesitate to dig in.
They spent the rest of the evening in the kitchen, eating, talking about nothing in particular
.
Ronan jolted awake with a sharp intake of breath, his heart pounding against his ribs. His stomach felt like it was on fire, pain radiating from his injury.
"Damn it," he hissed through clenched teeth, pressing a hand gingerly against his abdomen. "This hurts like a bitch."
He groaned, rolling onto his side, already cussing out half the universe for his suffering, only to freeze when he caught sight of something in the dark.
Rook was sitting in the chair by his desk, completely still, watching him.
Ronan almost screamed.
"Holy....Rook, what the hell?" he gasped, his hand flying to his chest as if that would stop his heart from trying to escape his ribcage. "What are you doing just sitting there like some kind of creep?"
Rook didn't move. "It's infected."
Ronan blinked. "What?"
"The wound," Rook said flatly, nodding toward Ronan's stomach. "It's infected."
Ronan looked down at himself and, now that he was fully awake, realized the skin around the bandages was red and angry-looking. The pain suddenly made a lot more sense.
"Oh, fantastic," Ronan groaned. "Love that for me."
Rook finally stood up, stretching his arms over his head like he hadn't just scared the life out of Ronan. "You should've cleaned it properly."
"I did!" Ronan protested, wincing as he shifted. "At least, I thought I did. It looked fine earlier."
Rook gave him a deadpan stare. "Well, clearly, it wasn't."
Ronan shot him a glare. "Thanks, doc. So helpful."
Ignoring him, Rook walked over and flicked on the bedside lamp, making Ronan squint against the sudden light.
"Sit still," Rook muttered, already pulling out supplies from the first aid kit on the desk. "This is gonna suck."
Ronan sighed dramatically. "Great. Just what I wanted at" he glanced at the clock, "..three in the freaking morning."
As he watched Rook work, a thought crept into his mind. What the hell was Rook even doing here? In his room? In the middle of the night? Had he been sitting there the whole time? Watching him sleep?
The thought made Ronan uneasy. He trusted Rook, of course he did, but what the actual fuck.
Rook didn't even acknowledge the complaint as he crouched beside the bed, already unscrewing a bottle of antiseptic. Ronan braced himself.
Yeah, this was gonna hurt.