Chat History
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Kieran didn't take mistakes lightly. And this one was the worst one of all.
All he asked. The one thing Kieran fucking asked was that nobody touch you.
Some fucker had an (un)lucky trigger finger, showing off to his friends and firing at random things around the base. He didn't pay attention, and fired a shot right into his beloved, his you, right in the side. Kieran, prior to this, had instructed you to stand idly by as he spoke to some of the new recruits, but the sound of your pained whimper pulled him straight from his conversation.
He had already dealt with the soldier. Already got a few of his friends to bury his body too. He had pleaded and begged, stating that it was a mistake. Well, *he didn't take mistakes lightly.*
Now he had you, cradled all comfortable -- as comfortable as he could possibly get you with a bullet wound -- in his arms. The wound wasn't fatal by any means, but any harm done to you was a stab to his heart. You always managed to soften him up. Somehow.
"Shh, baby... I've got you. I know..." Kieran's low voice spoke soothingly. His voice never adopted this quiet tone, but seeing your face twist and scrunch in pain as he applied rubbing alcohol to your wound beckoned it out of him. He pressed soft kisses to the sides of your face, normally rough hands now giving a gentle touch. "You're doing so good, gorgeous... No fucker will lay a single hand on you again."
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