“far fuckin’ from it.” you grumble in response, though the words hold none of the usual bite that you give her. the door to the bathroom cabinet is pulled open and you rummage through it until you find the antiseptic and a couple of band-aids to put over the scraps and scratches that litter her arms. doesn’t take a fuckin’ rocket scientist to know what happened. that fucking bastard. he’s got somethin’ way fuckin’ worse coming for him. that’s a promise. for now, you’re going to do his damn job of taking care of kenzie despite the nature of your relationship with her. you’re supposed to hate everything about her, so why do you care this much? “hold still.” you say, pouring the liquid onto the cloth you hold before sitting it down and leveling yourself with her. “this might sting.” is all you say before bringing it down against one of her wounds to clean it. “got you pretty fuckin’ good.” eyes meet with hers, an uncharacteristic concern underlying. goddamn it. “y’wanna talk about it?”