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Vada rushed Negan up the stairs, gently balling a fist full of his shirt into her hands as they hurried toward the bathroom. Negan continued to bleed, the maroon color dripping to the floor although he grasped the injury between his fingers. It dripped, leaving a trail of stains to the upstairs bathroom, all the way to the tiles before the counter. He propped himself beside the sink and threw his head back, emitting a weary sigh.
Vada growled, growing impatient as she rummaged below the sink for the first aid kit. Finally, concealed by the copious amounts of garbage stored away, she made out the bright scarlet kit and pulled it from the cupboard. She placed it beside the man, opened it up and then grabbed some paper towel.
"This is gonna hurt," she warned him. Raising her brows, she grabbed the alcohol from the kit and after soaking up some of the blood, she covered a piece in the liquid.
"I think I can fucking manage," his lips curved bravely but his voice rasped, he sounded unusually tired. Vada gave a tight lipped smile then tentatively placed the towel to his arm. Negan flinched but didn't make a noise as she cleaned his wound. Fully wiping up the blood, skillfully pressing the towel around the wound to cause less pain, she threw the bloodied paper towel into the toilet and sighed.
Then, she grabbed something to wrap up his injury with from the kit. She grabbed his arm gently, raised it, checking his face for any sign that he was in pain. He seemed fine as he stared down at her with a lazy smile. Tightly wrapping his wound, she kept her gaze flickering to and from his expression. Finally, taping off the ends, she was done, and she lowered his arm back down to the counter.
"Does it hurt?" She asked, bringing her hand to softly stroke her chin. She was worried she'd done a bad job as she inspected it, biting at the insides of her lips nervously.
"No," he drawled out. Vada gave him an unconvincing look and watched as he hopped down from the counter.
"You're just saying that to be tough." She smiled. "There's no way a cut like that isn't painful."
He gave a quick shrug. "Didn't even fucking notice it." He jerked his head toward her. "You've got a little something there." He raised his uninjured arm and brushed her collarbone.
She shifted her gaze to the mirror in front of them. She had blood splattered along her chest and the lining of her jaw. Frowning, she reached up and touched her neck, only to smear more from the blood of his wound. She wasn't sure what was from Negan and what was from the walkers, the colors almost indistinguishable. But the dead ones seemed a bit darker, even a hint of green in it.
