A bloody fist of a rich boy (2)
"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, then it's your problem, but…." I released his wrist and took out the first aid box from the club drawer. "Eat with your left hand. Let me treat you first. It might get worse and turn into an infection if left untreated," I said as I took out alcohol from the first aid kit and bandages as well.
"Damn, your injury is so bad, what kind of fistfight happened with you?"
I sat in front of him, holding his right hand while he watched me attentively. I gently washed the blood with water first before pouring the alcohol because the bruise and the wounds were literally all over his knuckles and fingers.
It was a surprise that Logan didn't even wince when I poured the alcohol, which should be really painful.
He just kept on watching me with his hot gaze. So I looked at him back and clicked my tongue in annoyance, "Why are you staring at me like that? Just eat with your left hand, you idiot."