Andrew came home one evening as Carla was about to change her bandages.
"Let me," he said, walking straight toward her.
Before Carla could react, Andrew had taken the medicine from her hand and crouched down. He unwrapped the gauze, revealing her swollen ankle and the gruesome wound.
Andrew paused, his crouched position blocking Carla from seeing his expression. She noticed him pause, staring at her wound as if lost in thought.
"Andrew… is it… hard to look at? I… I can do it myself," she hesitated, biting her lip and bending down to take the medicine from his hand, thinking that he was disgusted by the sight of her wound.
"It's not," Andrew suddenly looked up, his deep, dark eyes staring straight at her, with an unexpected gentleness.
Andrew was usually stern and distant. Carla had
