Oliver narrowed his eyes as he fetched the medkit for you once again.

"Why is it that after every match, you come to me with yet another injury?"

You brushed off the question, changing the topic because you didn't want him to know the reason: you just liked having him take care of you, so during every Quidditch game you contrived a small injury (or two or three) just so you'd have a reason to visit him.