Jacob had just let out a small laugh, about to agree with her sentiments about him being a talkative drunk. He wasn’t sure about how friendly he would be, if it would reach to an overly friendly point but — the sudden turn of events cut off his train of thoughts, no longer caring about what type of drunk he may or may not be.
Straight away, he moved into action. “How deep is it?” he questioned her, tearing his gaze away from her long enough to spot the opening of the bar and sliding off his seat to head for it. He barely contemplated if it were even legal for him to be behind the bar before throwing caution to the wind and doing so anyways. Once behind the counter, he leaned down to grab for the cloth. “Let’s get you a clean cloth, or do you have a first aid kit around here?” he asked as he reached for her hand. “You’re still able to move your fingers, yes?” He wanted to make sure she hadn’t hit a nerve first of all, along with stopping the bleeding.
She quickly shook her head, reaching for another towel to wrap around her hand, "It's fine." Â She was thinking about the best way to get this taken care of and get back out here when he was by her side as she went to wrap her hand but, he took it and stopped what she was doing and thinking about. Â She swallowed and nodded motioning towards the stock room, "The first aide kit is just over there." Â She wiggles her fingers a bit to demonstrate that she could definitely move them still.
She hadn't actually been able to see it at this point thanks to the blood so she didn't know the answer to how deep it was. Â She shook her head, "I'm sure it's nothing, just a scratch. Â You don't need to worry about it. Â I'll, get it cleaned up and come back and finished talking with you since that had been the plan." Â She gave him a bit of a smile even though her hand was currently aching.














