Dr. Frankenstein's office is quiet except for the occasional creak of the old radiator and the buzz of the bright lighting overhead. Outside, thunder rolled low, like something caged just beyond the walls, as if it was raining in the outside world. Jin sits on a swivel chair as Ashton is across from him, biting the inside of his cheek as he struggles to unwrap the makeshift bandage around his wrist.
"You're going to make it worse if you keep twisting it like that," Jin said finally, not looking up as he opens random draws before he makes a sound—he must have found what he's looking for.
Ashton doesn't answer. His fingers fumbled with the knot, jaw clenched in frustration.
Jin sighs, beckoning Ashton over his his hand. "Give it here." Jin said.
"I've got it." Ashton mutters defiantly.
"You really don't." Jin snickers.
Ashton shot him a look—sharp, but faintly flushed as he speaks more. "I can do it myself, asshole."
"You're doing a crap job of convincing me."
