Ava's breathing hitched, his sudden action startling her. They looked at each other with wide eyes.
Dylan's expression softened as he recognized her, the tension in his grip easing. "Ava," he murmured.
"I-I brought you coffee," she stammered, pulling her hand away quickly. Her cheeks flushed, and she turned aside to mask her unease. "I'll get the first aid kit," she added in a rush, moving toward the cupboard without waiting for his response.
Retrieving the familiar box from the top shelf, she returned to him, setting the kit down on the desk as she met his concerned gaze.
"You're worrying too much," Dylan said dismissively, attempting to dispel her concern. "It's just a few scratches."
"I know, but you can't just ignore them," Ava countered as she opened the box and retrieved the antiseptic cream. "If they're not treated, they could get infected."
