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𝑪𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒃𝒚 𝑺𝒐𝒇𝒊𝒂 𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒔
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
I looked at Timothée with my eyes certainly as big as saucers, as blood poured out from his hand almost like a fountain. His eyes met mine, a nervous smile on his lips. It was too late in the evening for this shit.
"Is there any particular reason that you're bleeding out on my bedroom floor?" I asked, standing up from my chair and slowly walking towards him, my eyes completely focused on his hand as I came closer.
"Well, it's a little too cold to be bleeding outside."
I then looked up, my eyes meeting his as I narrowed my own. What the fuck would that be from? It was a large gash that looked like he was cut by metal. I then took his good hand, annoyed that he had tracked blood in through my front door, leading him to my bathroom.
I closed the lid on the toilet. "Sit."
He complied as I walked out and went into my towel closet, getting the cotton balls, hydrogen peroxide, Neosporin, and gauze along with a bandage to wrap it in. I went back into the bathroom. Setting everything down, I looked at him.
"I'm not gonna sugar coat it, this is gonna kinda suck, so if you need to hold onto my hand while we do this, feel free." I pulled out a stool from under the sink.
He nodded, a glimmer of panic in his eye, as he looked at what I was going to do next. Like a child waiting for punishment from a disappointed parent. I took his injured hand and turned on the sink. I made sure the water was warm before sticking his hand under it.
Right as the water and his hand made contact with one another, Timothée let out a hiss, his teeth gritting in pain as he watched it, his hand grasping at my arm, tightly squeezing.
"Hey, hey, relax okay? It'll get better, I promise, it's just the bacteria in there."
He nodded, small tears pricking in the corner of his eyes. Soon I pulled his hand out from under the water. He let out a slight sigh of release. I then took the hydrogen peroxide and the cotton balls.
I looked up at him. "Okay, here's what's going to happen. You're going to hold my hand as I lightly press these cotton balls up against the cut. And it's gonna be cold, and it will fizz, and it will sting a bit. But this is gonna ensure this thing doesn't get infected."
He nodded. "Y-Yeah, okay." He took my hand. God, his hands were so soft. NOPE NOPE, don't think about that right now. Now isn't the time, he's your best friend for fucks sake.
I wet the cotton, "Okay, deep breath in." He inhaled.
When I pressed the two together, Timothee held my hand, grasping tightly like a snake, his eyes shut tightly as his teeth were bared, pain evident on his face.
"Shhhh, shhh, hey," I whispered, his eyes opening, "Look."
He looked down to see the wound now surrounded by a white foam. It was the peroxide doing its work and doing a good job from what it seemed.
Soon the pain halted. I then guided him to sit on the sink. I took the gauze and the Neosporin. I gently placed them on the wound. Tim didn't seem to be in pain. He made no sound when I took the bandage and started to wrap his hand up, being careful not to bind his thumb to his hand.
I then finished up, looking at Tim, realizing he had been staring at me the entire time.
I smiled, a blush definitely forming on my face. "What are you looking at?" I laughed, letting go of his hand.
He looked at me, his face growing closer to mine.
Oh god, Oh god, Oh god.
I then met him halfway. I wanted this, but then it hit me. What if he didn't want this? What if he didn't want me?
I pulled back. "I'm sorry, I was out of line, I-"
"Shut up."
I was cut off by his lips meeting my own once again, the kiss deeper than before. Both of his hands tangling themselves in my hair, deepening the kiss.
He finally pulled back. "You have no fucking idea how long I've wanted to do that."
