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"Goodness, are you gonna tell me what happened to you?" She lifted his chin to get a better look at his black eye.
"Who hit you?"He stayed silent.
"Fine. Don't tell me." She said, frustrated with his stubborn silence. "Sit down, please."
He sat on her sofa as she fetched her first aid kit. "How long has it been like that?" She sat down next to him.
"Since Thursday." He answered.
She inspected his face.
"You have a scratch on your cheek and a small bruise." She dabbed a bit of witch hazel on a cotton ball and held it to his face.
He flinched and moved his head. "It's not gonna burn. Now hold still." She cleansed the scratch and put a small band aid on it. She then got a warm rag and placed it in his hand. "Put that on your eye."
He did as he was told.
"Now, are you gonna tell me?"
He remained silent and averted his gaze to the floor. "Okay, I understand." She stood. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah."
"What do you wanna eat? I'll cook it."
"You."
She stopped and sat back down.
"Are you high again?"
"Yeah. Are we gonna fuck?"
"... I was thinking that we should take a break today." She suggested.
"My job is to help you reach your climax and make you cum. Not to be your friend or psychiatrist."
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Incubus » ʟ. ᴛʏ
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