"Be careful, don't move your hand. See how much blood is flowing. Can’t you do a little thing properly?" Saying this, he pulled my hand to himself.
He strengthened the grip of his hands. Today, His hand felt a little warmer to me. It was not furious grip but some strange touch. I have not loved someone as per my memory. His touch, why does it different that his usual touch? He made his handkerchief folded and rolled it around the wound. He tied a firm knot of that handkerchief. He tied it so tightly that it caused me pain. My wound was getting pressed by it.
“Please leave it, you are making me hurt.” I said and tried to taking my hands from his hand. He became frustrated to hear those words.
“Shut up. Let me finish it!” He said and covered that wound completely.
