Nate is sitting on one of the cots, waiting while you rummage through the medkit for some cotton and ointment. His leg bounces slightly, and he can barely contain his smile, though his cheeks have already flushed softly. His eyes stay focused on you the entire time, and when you finally turn around, he pouts in mock offense, looking as if he’s about to burst into tears. “Come on, Doc! My wounds hurt so bad… You really should hurry up and treat them.."
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