Scrapes and Bruises [Ethan Landry x Reader]

four.

you went to ethan's apartment, letting yourself in with the key chad gave you. it wasn't for another hour until a figure outside the window almost made you jump out of your skin.

ethan didn't seem to notice you as he hung upside down, placing his gloved hand on his window and sliding it open with experienced ease.

you stood, trying to make your presence known as ethan climbed — no, fell — into his room.

"ethan!" you cried, reaching out to him as he collapsed to the ground, your face twisted in worry.

"hey." ethan tried for a smile but it came out more like a grimace. his face was warm with blood and with the way he was clutching his side, something was broken or bruised. the darkness of ethan's room cast shadows on his face that made it impossible to tell the extent of his injuries.

"what happened to you?" your voices softens with concern; nothing else matters as one of hands comes up to brush ethan's face. he winces a little at your touch; nevertheless, he places a hand atop of yours.

"some bad guys got the jump on me. but i got 'em." ethan took a deep breath as he cringed, shifting uncomfortably.

"yeah, you always do," you smile, gently slipping your hand out from under ethan's. you drop beside him, slipping his shoulder over you. "come on, champ," you groan, helping him get up.

you bring ethan over to his bed, setting him down against his pillows to get him as comfortable as possible.

the night was strangely reminiscent of the one where you'd first found out about ethan's secret; the same shades of black and blue decorating ethan's face and surely sprinkled around his body. blood and grim covered most of ethan's face; last time had not been this bad.

"it probably looks worse than it is," ethan offered upon seeing your reaction.

you couldn't even say a word, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you cleaned up ethan's face, trying to be careful of all the wounds on ethan's face. it wasn't frustration, but it was becoming more than concern; could the injuries get worse until they amounted to... something else?

ethan tried to hold in his winces and his groans, biting one side of his split lip to not let out a sound.

there was a tense silence as you did your best between melting ice and bandages. you were no professional, but you were all ethan had.

you tugged at the top half of ethan's suit next and he helped you shrug it off, wincing at the movement. ethan leaned back in pain as your hands made their way to the developing bruise that spread on ethan's side.

your hands pressed on the injury to try and feel for a break. ethan gasped and his hands reached out to clamp around yours, begging you to stop.

"so," ethan breathed out shakily, struggling to smile. "how's it looking?"

"i- it doesn't- there's no bruising on your chest a-and i didn't feel a crack, but-" your voice caught in your throat as you let out a shaky breath, eyes welling up with tears. "i don't know, ethan! i'm not- i'm not a professional!"

"hey, hey, i know." ethan's hands grabbed yours softer this time as he sits up despite the pain. his voice and his grip were gentle, trying to soothe the frustration you held. "that's why i didn't want to tell you—"

"so, what? you've been getting beat up every night and not telling me about it?" you ask, half-shocked.

ethan gave you a look that confirmed your suspicions and you laughed in disbelief.

"are you serious? i told you to tell me—"

"well, you never said that explicitly—"