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Summary
Andrew laid Samira down right in the middle of the bed. She forced his bloodied shirt off and set it by her hip, inches away from his knee. A streak of doglike devotion flared through him when he took in how much blood had transferred onto her from all this: even when she removed her shirt, blood was smeared on her waist from where he’d held her, and her hands and wrist were painted from her handling of their clothes. Even so, it was nothing compared to the man above her.
“You’re not dirty,” Samira spoke, finally. “You’re just… devoted. Besides, it’s been a while. It’s good for you to get out, remember?”
fanart/fanfic collab with @billynohouse on twitter!
Series
- Part 16 of The Pitt