❛ patch . help my muse patch up a wound . ( steve @ nancy :> )
« Steve that’s not—— here, let me do it. » Steve was making such a mess of that wound that Nancy just had to interfere, finally deciding that ignoring that typical alpha-male attitude was going to be a lot better than sitting still and looking at him try to sew that cut. She’d finished taking care of her own quite a few minutes ago, and focusing on Steve was the distraction she needed not to mind the dull pain that came from under her own gauzes.
They had more scratches and injuries than they could count, but at least they were alive. That was pretty much a MIRACLE considering how low the chances had been to walk out of that bus and tell the experience.
Jesus Christ, the adrenaline was still running so high under skin that Nancy still had problem breathing. Or maybe that was just her ribs being bruised by a Demogorgon charging at her like a real bull.
There was still some blood under her nails, no matter how many times she’d tried to wash and scrub at them with soap and warm water. It would have to suffice, at least if she wanted to prevent Steve from getting the ugliest scar of his life. Her gestures were pretty methodical as she took thread and needle and poured some more disinfectant on the cut, yet her cheeks still dared to flush red at the fact that he was shirtless on her bed. She was in her bra and covered in bandages. Together with first-aid kit scattered on the mattress, those definitely ruined the scene, yet the blushing was inevitable given the words they’d shared when thinking it had to be the end. « Hold still, this is going to hurt a bit… »