Font Size:
“Maybe you should stop listening.”
“Maybe you should stop saying things out loud. Most people talk in their
I glare at him again.
He ignores that too.
Unbelievable.
He shifts slightly, pulling something from his pack—clean cloth, small med kit.
Prepared.
Of course he is.
“You’re lucky it’s not deeper,” he says as he cleans the wound.
I flinch.
Just a little.
His hand stills.
“Easy,” he murmurs.
That—
That does something I don’t like.
The tone.
The softness.
I swallow.
Hard.
His gaze tracks it again.
Oh, that needs to stop.
Immediately.
“You stare a lot,” I say.
“You talk to yourself a lot,” he counters.
Touché.
I don’t respond to that.
Because—
He’s not wrong.
Annoying.
Consistently right.
