You carried the pile of dishes precariously, trying to clean up before your boyfriend came over. A few plates and bowls stood stacked in your left hand, and you reached to pick up an old glass of water with your right.

Walking towards the kitchen, you stumbled over the carpet and slipped on the wood floor. Still holding the drinking glass, you reached your hand to the couther in an attempt to break your fall, smacking it violently against a mix of wood, plaster, and glass.

You fell down, and raised your throbbing hand in front of your face. Dizziness pounded in your head, and you were startled by the sight of blood on your aching knuckles. Already a deep purple-blue was pooling beneath your skin, bruising the entire surface of your hand. The pieces of your drinking glass were stuck to your palm. Thankfully, the cuts were shallow.

On the floor, you were surrounded by an unfortunate mess of broken ceramics and scattered silverware. The pain in your hand was accented by a steady drip of crimson onto the floor next to you.

Thankfully, your boyfriend arrived within a few minutes. When he opened the door, you were still sitting uncomfortably on the floor, processing the damage to your hand with a blank stare.

“Oh my god! What happened?” He crawled over to you over the broken dishes with a look of shock and panicked distress on his face.

“I’m fine” you said, “I fell down. It looks worse than it really is.” He stared at you with doubt. “Really, it’s not that bad.” He sighed, helping you stand and navigate around the plates.

“You need to be more careful! This is a mess!” You let him hoist you up to the counter, sitting with your hand extended in front of him. Wincing as he pulled the glass from your hands with tweezers, he offered you a disapproving click of his tongue. “Seriously though. This is awful! What were you doing?” He rinsed the blood from your hand, frowning when the water revealed cuts on your palm and knuckles. He dried it with a soft towel and patted the bruises gingerly.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, looking sheepishly at the ground. He wrapped bandages and tape around your hand, placing a light kiss on your hand.

“Of course. I’m sorry you fell.” You smiled back and wrapped your arms around his neck. He lifted you off of the countertop, holding you in a tight hug for a minute before lowering you to the ground. You clasped your hands behind his back, your arms around his waist.

“You’re the best.” Your head rested comfortably on his sturdy chest and smiled. Wandering together, you landed with a soft thump on the sofa, both laughing happily. You sat together for a moment, his hand running lightly down your arm. His slow breath was warm against your cheek, the soft ticking of a clock in the background. You shifted on his lap, moving to stand up. “I should clean up the glass, shouldn’t I?”

He tugged you back down, a bright twinkle in his eyes.

“It can wait, can’t it?” You smiled, nuzzling back into his embrace.

“Definitely.”