cont. from x.
Keith uncomfortably retracted his hands, realising he was just holding them there, and slammed them down by his sides; a tiny blush touching his cheeks due to being caught being worried... for Lance, no less.
❝ Yeah... look, don’t... don’t move too quick, okay? And try not to talk, you sound exhausted ❞ Keith said, calming the worry in his voice; he was no doctor, he really didn’t know what he was doing, and if Lance’s condition worsened, then he would really start to panic.
❝ I, uh... I had a go at stitching up your side ❞ he replied, quietly, pointing to the gash along Lance’s side, hoping he wouldn’t quickly sit up to try and see it. ❝ It was like that when I found you... You looked like you’d been in a fight, it’s definitely a wound from a blade ❞.
Keith sat down on the edge of the bed, carefully, trying not to make it so that Lance had to move so much.
❝ Can you remember who you were fighting? Did you go out looking for someone? You were in the middle of nowhere ❞ he said, carefully, not wanting to sound too accusatory. ❝ You... you didn’t run into anyone by chance out there... are you sure you don’t remember anything? ❞








