“Let me see your wounds,” I said, reaching for the towel on a flab beside the tub and a small jar of healing herbal ointment I found there as well. He must've kept them there to use them on himself.
He lifted his arm first—scratches, a gash on his side, purple bruises forming along his ribs and collarbone. I bit the inside of my cheek as I gently dabbed at the injuries, cleaning them with care.
Then his back.
“You know,” I said quietly, focusing on the gash near his shoulder blade, “you didn’t have to fight him because of me. I was already going to stop talking to him. Besides…we are just friends. "I bet he fought you to spur you.” I didn't know when I chuckled to myself.
A spark of frustration flickered in his tired blue eyes as he turned his head to look at me.
“You don’t see what
