The man staring back at me is …fuck.
My eyes are black and bloodshot. My sides are already fucking purple and coloring down to the waistband of my briefs. My brows are both busted and scarred. There’s stubble I normally keep shaved down darkening my chin and surrounding swollen lips.
The cut on my cheek is wide open and throbbing.
That should really be stitched.
Sucking in a shaking breath, I flex my hands closed. Then open. Then closed.
It makes the numbness I was feeling tingle up to my elbows.
Quiet.
I blow out.
“I-I think I can help.”
The sound of Emmett’s soft tone has my heart jumping into my throat.
“It’s okay,” I say, and it cracks.
My fingers tremble around the small package that I’m not sure is what I need, and the rip it makes has my pulse skyrocketing.
It’s like breaking open a brand-new syringe.
I swallow hard and set the butterfly strip aside.
“Tristen.”
It sounds like he’s far away, but when I glance to my side, Emmett’sright there. His honey irises watching me intently, his dark brows drawn down tight.
He doesn’t break eye contact as he swipes the next thing from my hand, his fingers brushing over mine so lightly that I shiver.Did I imagine it?
All I can do is force air into my lungs when he raises the alcohol pad to my brow and touches it to the broken skin. It burns, yet I can’t do anything but get lost in those sweet eyes watching me, even as he moves to another part of my face.
He’s not staring into my soul anymore but watching his actions as he touches the cleaner to my cuts.
When he gets to the one on my cheek, I see him swallow hard. It’s not actively bleeding anymore, but it could break open, and it’s big. His touch goes shaky.
“Emmett,” I whisper, terrified to break this haze we’ve fallen into with anything louder than that. “You don’t have to.”
Glaze flicking to mine, he lifts his chin.
“Tell me what to do.”
The organ in my chest thumps.
I wish I was as brave as him.
“Just, um, clean it like the others and then use the strips to pull it back together.”
“What if it scars?”It’s going to. No doubt.
“It won’t.”
The lie seems to ease him just enough that his shoulders lift.
He’s careful as he cleans it and I do my best not to react to the sting, even when he presses a little harder this time.
