“Well done,” Mercer says, and something twists in my stomach when his lips curve into a small smile.
It transforms him.
It captivates me.
When his eyes dart to mine, my own curl in response.
“Now, isolate the white blood cells and direct them to the wound site.”
Once again he closes his eyes, and my scalp itches.
“Excellent.” That same small smile appears, and my heart skips a beat—which, holy shit—he notices, if the flash of his blue eye is any indication. Because his hand has crept upwards from my chest, fingers resting against my jugular.
“Dr. Mercer?” a nurse calls from the doorway, startling us both. “We have a third-degree burn that just came in.” The doctor sighs, and looks to Thane.
“Can you handle the knee?” He nods, and she leaves without a second glance. He clears his throat after a moment of silence, but I interrupt him.
“Thank you,” I say earnestly, which seems to take him by surprise. Probably because the last time we spoke, he was a total fucking asshole. In light of all he’s doing to help me, I’ll let it go… for now. “I really appreciate it.”
His throat bobs again, but then he nods. “You’re welcome,” he finally responds in that low, rasping voice. “You’ll probably be tired for a couple days as your body catches up with the healing.”
“Okay.” The silence between us grow tense when he stands at my bedside, unmoving.
“So, my knee?” The ice pack has mitigated most of the immediate pain, thankfully, but it still hurts like a bitch
“Yeah.” He swallows thickly. His outstretched hand freezes when we both come to the same realization. “I’ll need to cut your pants off.”
He notices my hesitation. “We can wait for Mercer to get back. If you want.” he offers stiffly.
“No it’s—I’m fine. It’s fine.”
I’m a patient. He’s an intern, whatever that means here. The nice lady doctor trusts him. There’s no reason for this to be anything but clinical.
Except I notice the way his broad shoulders stretch the shirt tight across his back when he digs through a drawer, pulling out a pair of scissors.
When his fingers grip my ankle and he begins cutting, revealing more of my pale skin with every snip, I shiver. I feel like a present being unwrapped as the ruined fabric falls away and his hand slowly trails upwards, carefully avoiding my very obviously dislocated kneecap. When he reaches my waistband, it snaps back before I can cover my newly exposed underwear, but it’s a moot point. He’s seen it. I know he’s seen it. He knows I know he’s seen it.
He gulps, throat bobbing before turning to put the scissors back.
Cool, I can pretend that didn’t just happen, too.
I startle when his hands settle on either side of my knee. “I’ll have to do what’s called a ‘reduction’, to put in back into place.It’s fairly straightforward.” I think he’s going to continue, but it seems he’s waiting for me to respond.
“I trust you.” He stills, searching my eyes for something I’m beyond understanding at this point.
“You shouldn’t,” he mutters before shaking his head. “Want a countdown?”
“Yeah.” If it works for ear piercings, it’ll probably work for this, too. Right?
“Three. Two—” pressure and sharp pain make me cry out until it fades just as quickly with a sickening pop. He rests his hand on my knee and closes his eyes much like he did when healing my head, and soon the pain ebbs until only mild soreness remains thanks to his magic.
“That was fucking dirty,” I whimper, hiding my grimace with my arm as the adrenaline from the last couple hours finally fades, leaving me weak as exhaustion takes its place.
“I need to check your range of motion, bend your knee for me.” He proceeds to fold and extend my leg up and down, side to side, then asks me to do it myself with his support. Between drilling practice earlier, getting injured, and the magical healing, I’m trembling by the time he lays my leg back down on the bed.
All I want to do is sleep for the next three days.
Just as I uncover my eyes to ask if that’s even allowed, I feel his hand start to knead my tired muscles and groan softly in relief. I’m not prepared, though, to see him fixated on where his warm hands meet my cool skin—his one blue eye nearly glowing white in the low light.
