🧊 Hold ice against the receiver’s swollen face until it numbs
steve flinched at first, more reflex than anything, breath catching sharp when the cold pressed to his cheek. then he sagged into it with a quiet sound he didn’t bother stopping. the relief was instant, almost dizzying, and he let his head tip just enough toward the ice like his body had decided for him.
he’d been moving through the halls all day like that. slow. fuzzy. everything felt a step removed, like he was watching himself from a few feet away. the fight kept replaying whether he wanted it to or not. the plate. the crack of it. the shock of white-hot pain and ceramic against skin, the way his vision had swum from the pain in his ear afterward.
he probably shouldn’t have come to school at all, but sitting at home alone with that ringing silence had felt worse. so he’d shown up and put his head down and hoped no one would look too closely.
his lashes fluttered as he opened his eyes, focus coming in pieces until chrissy came into view, all concern and softness, and that somehow made his throat tighten more than the pain ever did.
“jesus,” he murmured, voice rough, “that feels really good.” he almost pulled away out of habit, out of that stupid need to not be a problem, but he stopped himself. let it stay. “you don’t have to,” he added quietly, meeting her eyes now, sincere and a little tired. a small, crooked smile tugged at his mouth despite everything. “but… thanks. seriously. that was really nice of you.”
injury / injured prompts from @chrissyfied