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With a small groan, Carmen set aside the first aid kit. If the man stopped pulling away and squirming as if he was sitting on hot coal, she would have been much, much happier. He was grumbling something along the lines of being able to manage it himself, and Carmen looks up over the rim of her glasses, pursing her lips. “Don’t be ridiculous. You need me.” she said, starting to clean the cut. “If it was in a more accessible place than the back of your thigh, maybe you wouldn’t have needed me. How did you even manage to get cut here, though?”
A disgruntled hiss strained past gritted teeth as a razor sharp pain shot up the length of his backside. Incisors clamped down on his inner lip and knuckles turned bright white as digits curled into tight fists in an ineffective attempt at diverting his focus elsewhere. ❝Well I could’ve if I really wanted to.❞ the faint retort was carried out on a rigid breath. ❝What I was more worried about was getting an- infection!❞ a startled yelp resounded against the walls as Anthony threw a peeved glance over his shoulder. Dark eyebrows knitted closely together in an obvious effort to bear the discomfort. “ ❝I got snagged by a rusted nail going past a construction site. Sliced right through my good work pants.❞
