“You’re just lucky they didn’t threaten me with a needle to the eye or I might’ve spilled my guts,” he says.
I lick my lips idly as I finish up the first wound and get started on another on his leg. “I’d have to kill you then if they didn’t.” My words are dark and low, but I meet eyes with him and he smirks at me.
“I’d probably let you.”
I scoff. “That’s just toxic,” I say. “Maybe I’ll have to promise not to kill you so that you don’t get your rocks off.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t ah—keep.” I go a little deeper than needed with the needle and he gasps softly.
“Sorry,” I mumble before continuing. “I’ve done this before, but I’m not a doctor.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I finish up the second wound before moving onto the third and final one. Damian is looking a bit dizzy; he is tilting side to side slightly every now and then and his gaze isn’t focusing on me.
“You alright?” I ask him.
“Mhm,” he hums out. “Right as rain.”
I look down to work on sewing and I can feel his pulse slowing down in his leg. Too low.
“Just hang on for another minute, I’m almost done. Then you can lay down.”
I scoot closer to him so that if he starts to lean over, I can pull him to lean against me. Thankfully, he makes it through the final stitching without passing out.
After wrapping up and tossing the needle and remaining thread I stand up and reach my hands out for him. Damian grabs one of them and I help him off the tub.
“Let’s get you to bed,” I say.
I lead Damian out of the bathroom and to the side of the living room where there’s a small bedroom with a bed far too small for his large body. It’ll do for now.
He sits down on the end of the bed with a sigh and looks up at me.
“How are you?” he asks as he starts to lean back and put his feet up.
I shrug. “Barely got a scratch on me,” I assure him.
He shakes his head. “I mean…how are you, really? With everything?”
“How am I after having to rescue you from the uncle of the woman I’m still married to?” I ask him with a raise of my brow. “Pretty fucking pissed off, honestly.”
I fold my arms and pace at the end of the bed. “I’m terrified that Eivor is going to try to wage a full-scale war over this. He won’t win, of course. But it’ll be a lot of bloodshed. A lot of people will die for nothing.” I take a deep breath and glance over at Damian, stopping where I’m standing. “Unless we get to him first.”
He nods. “I agree. We don’t need him blowing things out of proportion.” His brow knits. “I could take him down easily, if I could just get to him.”
“Yeah no.” I walk over to him and kneel down. “You’re not getting close to him. Ever again.”
“He can’t do as much damage to me as—” Damian starts, but I cut him off quickly.
“Fuck no,” I growl out. “I could’ve lost you today. I’m not letting you near him.”
Damian stares at me for a second before speaking. “And I’m supposed to let you near him?” he asks me. “Risk losing you?”
“Yes,” I insist. “This is my job. I promised Rosalie I would take him out. I don’t care what you or my brothers want. His life is mine.” My hands curl into fists as I look up at him.
“I will protect you, you can’t stop me,” Damian says matter-of-factly. His voice fades slightly, and his shoulders start to slump.
“Yeah. Alright. Just get some rest right now.” I brush my hand over his shoulder and then stand up. I grab the blanket from the end of the bed and draw it up over his body.
