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“It’s no big deal, Vic. It’s just a few scratches.”
The look Vic leveled on Henry was so dark and filled with rage that it shut him up pretty fast. If looks could kill was a total understatement.
“Just a few scratches.” It wasn’t even a question, just a snarled statement as Vic gave a cold laugh, dabbing at his face with a wet hand towel and shaking his head, “Just a few scratches? Henry, you’re practically going to need a new face.”
At least Vic was done pulling the glass out of his forehead and cheek. That had hurt like a bitch and only made him think more about his dad smashing a beer bottle into his face.
“It’s not that bad…” Henry tried, but he knew that his nurse wasn’t about to let him off that easily.
“Shut up.” Sighing heavily, Vic picked up another towel, soaking it in hydrogen peroxide, “Sit still. This will sting.”
Sting? The way Henry flinched and hissed it must have burned with the intensity of a thousand white-hot suns. Still, it brought a small smile to the blond’s lips and he leaned in to kiss the other’s temple, on his good side.
“Don’t worry, Henry. I’ll help you come up with a good story. Just let me get you patched up, okay?” He whispered against the damp skin, and Henry nodded vaguely, a blush spreading across his cheeks.
“Thanks, man.” He murmured, tipping his head down before Vic caught his chin. A gentle kiss landed on his lips and he gasped into it when the damp rag found his face again.
“You’re going to be all right.” Vic whispered, “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”