“I don’t trust you to actually use it, so…” He squeezed some gel onto his palm and gently took Mano’s right hand. The silverrings on his fingers were cool against Ody’s skin, the heavy chain bracelet shifting on Mano’s wrist.
Ody began applying the cream carefully, avoiding pressure.
Mano stared at him.
The touch.
The smell of ointment.
A voice from somewhere deep in his memory.
“It’s okay, Mano. It’s just a scrape. You’re strong, aren’t you?”
“I am,” the child whispered through tears.
“You’re the strongest boy in the world.”
“Mano?” Ody looked up and found his eyes glassy.
Mano blinked quickly and pulled his hand away. “I’ll do it.” He turned, hiding his face.
Ody froze.
“Drive,” Mano muttered.
Ody placed the ointment back in the bag, set it on the back seat, and started the engine.
When they reached the building, Mano seemed composed again. Ody parked and looked at him.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“No, I was just… The bag.” He reached into the back seat and handed it to him. “Twice a day. And…” He hesitated. “Can I?”
Mano met his eyes, but didn’t say no. Ody carefully wrapped the bandage around his wrist. Mano flinched at first.
“Sorry,” Ody murmured, loosening it. When he finished, he secured the clip.
Mano dropped his gaze. “...Thanks.” The word came out barely above a whisper.
Ody blinked, surprised. “You’re welcome.”
They sat there for a second.
“What time is your class tomorrow?” Ody asked.
“I don’t have any.”
“You don’t?” He frowned.
“No.”
Ody studied him. “Then why did I hear people talking about tomorrow’s class when I was waiting outside your building?”
Silence.
“Are you lying because you don’t want me to pick you up?”
“Yeah.” He avoided his gaze.
