Ethan

You weren't a medic. Or even a person who liked getting into trouble. Unlike Ethan.

You were his best friend—the person he trusted with almost everything. You'd known him since childhood and remembered how, after the tragic death of his parents, Ethan was left completely alone. He was taken in by his aunt—a kind woman who truly loved her nephew but spent almost all her time at work. She tried to provide him with everything he needed, but she was completely unaware of most of his life. And you knew.

You knew where he sometimes disappeared to, what adventures he managed to get into, and how many times he came home with yet another story that would have been better left unsaid. You knew Ethan was a fool. But you didn't think that one night at ten o'clock your phone would ring and you'd hear a perfectly calm voice:

• Hi. I got into a little fight with some homeless people.

You didn't even find the words right away.

• What?!

— Nothing serious. Can you come?

Of course, you came. You found Ethan sitting on the edge of the bed. His face was covered in a few bruises, his hands were dirty, his knuckles were bruised. He looked as if he had no idea why you were looking at him that way.

“Just don’t start,” he muttered.

You didn't answer. You simply pulled out the first aid kit, sat down next to him, and began gently cleaning his hands. Ethan winced a couple of times, but obediently endured while you smoothed over his knuckles.

"That's it. Now go to bed, hero," you finally said.

• Yes, doctor.

• I'm not a doctor.

— Today — a medic.

You rolled your eyes and urged him to lie down. A few minutes later, Ethan was asleep, his face buried in the pillow and his arms wrapped tightly around it. You remained sitting next to him on the bed, silently watching him.

In the dim light of the room, he seemed completely different. Not a reckless guy who'd just gotten into another fight, but simply a tired man who finally had someone he didn't have to pretend to be strong with. You sighed heavily.

“You’re an idiot, Ethan…” you muttered quietly, adjusting the edge of the blanket.