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"You shouldn’t be getting into so many fights. You’ll just get hurt; like this."

She winced, not so much at his words, but at the stinging sensation of the rubbing alcohol as Erwin cleaned the shallow cut on her palm.“How the hell was I supposed to know he had a knife?” She retorted bitterly.

“And since when am I your responsibility?”

She was met with a discouraging glare, although she dismissed the warning look entirely, opting to shoot the older man an obnoxious look.

“It’s not a matter of responsibility; it’s a matter of selflessness. The nurse refused to treat you since you called her, and I quote, ‘a stupid bitch’.”

She gave a short, curt laugh, wresting her arm from his grip and sliding off the desk, landing neatly on her feet.

“That’s right. And thanks, but no thanks, old man. I don’t really want to be in your debt.”

He looked visibly hurt, maybe even a little aggravated. She paused for a second, raising her brows questioningly.

“What did you even expect to get from this, a fuckin’ medal? Sorry to break it to you, Smith, the world doesn’t work that way.”

Turning sharply on her heel, she headed towards the door without so much as a backwards glance.

~~~~

It had barely been a week, Erwin thought as he dabbed gently at a fairly deep cut on her upper arm.
She squirmed uncomfortably, wincing at the touch of the rubbing alcohol against the wound.

“Stop moving, [name],” he ordered gently, earning a rude noise of complaint from the delinquent teenager.

“You’re lucky you came to me, you know,” he said after a few minutes of stiff silence, “Any longer and you would’ve needed stitches.”

She leant back comfortably against the wall from her position on the sleek countertops, as Erwin moved off to grab a bandage and antibiotics.

“So, Smith- tell me, what do you expect to get out of this?” She questioned airily, feet kicking back and forth from where her legs dangled over the counter’s edge.

He said nothing, rummaging through a small box of medical supplies and setting a few items out on the counter.

“Did you expect a pat on the back from the principal or something?”
Her voice was a languid drawl, as she casually rolled her neck, refocusing her eyes on him.

“Not at all, actually,” he answered, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he returned, a bandage in his hand.

“Hold out your arm, please.”

Much to his surprise, she cooperated, holding her arm steady as he wrapped the gauze around the wound.

“There, that should do it,” he said quietly. A relaxed, possibly friendly silence ensued, until she stood up, stretching.

Strange, he thought to himself. She seemed different, with a much softer demeanor than her normally cruel and rebellious outward image.
He suspected what happened next must have been a dream; as she hurriedly stood on her toes to brush her lips against his. As quickly as she had kissed him, she turned and made for the door.
She stopped in the doorway, turning to glance back at him.

“And… Thanks, Smith.”

Description
"You shouldn’t be getting into so many fights. You’ll just get hurt; like this."

She winced, not so much at his words, but at the stinging sensation of the rubbing alcohol as Erwin cleaned the shallow cut on her palm.“How the hell was I supposed to know he had a knife?” She retorted bitterly.

“And since when am I your responsibility?”

She was met with a discouraging glare, although she dismissed the warning look entirely, opting to shoot the older man an obnoxious look.

“It’s not a matter of responsibility; it’s a matter of selflessness. The nurse refused to treat you since you called her, and I quote, ‘a stupid bitch’.”

She gave a short, curt laugh, wresting her arm from his grip and sliding off the desk, landing neatly on her feet.

“That’s right. And thanks, but no thanks, old man. I don’t really want to be in your debt.”

He looked visibly hurt, maybe even a little aggravated. She paused for a second, raising her brows questioningly.

“What did you even expect to get from this, a fuckin’ medal? Sorry to break it to you, Smith, the world doesn’t work that way.”

Turning sharply on her heel, she headed towards the door without so much as a backwards glance.

~~~~

It had barely been a week, Erwin thought as he dabbed gently at a fairly deep cut on her upper arm.
She squirmed uncomfortably, wincing at the touch of the rubbing alcohol against the wound.

“Stop moving, [name],” he ordered gently, earning a rude noise of complaint from the delinquent teenager.

“You’re lucky you came to me, you know,” he said after a few minutes of stiff silence, “Any longer and you would’ve needed stitches.”

She leant back comfortably against the wall from her position on the sleek countertops, as Erwin moved off to grab a bandage and antibiotics.

“So, Smith- tell me, what do you expect to get out of this?” She questioned airily, feet kicking back and forth from where her legs dangled over the counter’s edge.

He said nothing, rummaging through a small box of medical supplies and setting a few items out on the counter.

“Did you expect a pat on the back from the principal or something?”
Her voice was a languid drawl, as she casually rolled her neck, refocusing her eyes on him.

“Not at all, actually,” he answered, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he returned, a bandage in his hand.

“Hold out your arm, please.”

Much to his surprise, she cooperated, holding her arm steady as he wrapped the gauze around the wound.

“There, that should do it,” he said quietly. A relaxed, possibly friendly silence ensued, until she stood up, stretching.

Strange, he thought to himself. She seemed different, with a much softer demeanor than her normally cruel and rebellious outward image.
He suspected what happened next must have been a dream; as she hurriedly stood on her toes to brush her lips against his. As quickly as she had kissed him, she turned and made for the door.
She stopped in the doorway, turning to glance back at him.

“And… Thanks, Smith.”