Tuah mumbled his apology once again as he dressed the wound, gentler than before this time. His brows furrowed together and his lips pressed into a firm line as his mind wandered off to the things that transpired earlier that caused both of them to sit on the cold bathroom tiles in his house.
“Coulda been worse, you know.”
He let his lips curled into a smile, gaze glancing towards the other. “Perhaps,” he agreed, turning his attention towards the task at hand, “though I wish it could have turned out better. But I suppose that’s what you get when you meddle with things you have little understanding of.” His fingers faltered, and it took him longer to dress the wound.
“Stop it.” Tuah glanced towards her, seeing her narrowed eyes looking back. “You’re going to say you’re sorry again.”
“I’m fine,” Dani insisted, rolling her eyes. “Jeez, you’re worse than dad when he’s fussing about me.”
He wanted to reply with a witty remark, but anything he came up with died at the tip of his tongue. Instead, Tuah simply said,” Speaking of your father, perhaps you should inform him of what happened? I don’t want him to worry for you, after all.” A groan escaped her lips, and she let her forehead touched the cold porcelain surface. “Or not,” he mused, arching his brow at the other’s antic. “Perhaps I can make something for us to drink and watch some movies first? I’ve always wanted to do a Star Wars marathon.”
With that, the other perked up, her lips curled into a wide smile, and he couldn’t help let out a soft chuckle. “Alright, hot drinks and Star Wars marathon, then.” Perhaps he’d tell Fane about it later. Maybe.