"The water's cold? You're cut half to pieces, and you're complaining about the fucking healing water? What the fuck's wrong with you?" The urge to keep touching her stirs in his gut, travels down to his fingers, but he grits his teeth and tosses the rag aside.
"Fine. But if you start to rot, you can be damn sure I'm not fucking looking after you."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2013-07-10 04:11 am (UTC)"Fine. But if you start to rot, you can be damn sure I'm not fucking looking after you."
That's a lie.