on tenterhooks and tenderhooks

Yor is sitting on the soft blue mat in front of the bathtub, dozens of small bandages discarded on the floor around her. A few fresh bandages are pathetically stuck on the exposed cuts scattered across her right-hand fingers, most half-dangling off. A full box of bandaids and an uncapped tube of neosporin similarly lay beside her.

Yor's face reddens. "I-They were starting to come off while I slept, so I figured it was time I replaced them. I'm... sorry."

Twilight doesn't quite understand what she's apologizing for. But Loid steps fully into the bathroom and lowers himself to sit in front of Yor. "Would you like an extra pair of hands?"