Sylvia could barely take it anymore. The pain was so intense, she felt like something was crawling under her skin. Rupert held her tightly, his strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her from squirming away.
"Stay still. Do you want to lose your hand?" His voice was low and firm, and the warmth of his breath against her ear left no room for argument.
The thought of her injured hand made Sylvia stop struggling. Ever since leaving the Garcia Manor, the wound on her hand had been throbbing painfully. She hadn't even registered a word Naomi said to her.
Rupert retrieved a bottle of saline solution from the first aid kit. "Brace yourself," he murmured.
Before Sylvia could process his words, Rupert began to rinse the wound. The sharp sting made her scalp tingle, and her fingers tremble.
It felt like something was wriggling beneath her flesh.
Unable to bear it, she tried to pull away, but Rupert's grip tightened.
Then, she felt a strange sensation around the wound.
Looking down, Sylvia saw Rupert not only cleaning her wound but also gently caressing the skin around it to ease her pain.
She blinked in surprise.
After a moment, the blood and debris were washed away, but a small shard was embedded deeply.
Just as she was about to suggest handling it herself, Rupert opened another bottle of saline and rinsed his own injured hand.
Blood seeped through the bandage on his palm, but he merely wiped it away, then retrieved a pair of sterilized tweezers from the kit.
Sylvia was taken aback. How could he be so unfazed?
"Close your eyes," Rupert instructed, his face expressionless.
"Why?" Sylvia asked, snapping out of her daze.
"Aren't you afraid of pain?"
"I'm not a kid, I'm not af—ow, that hurts."
Sylvia winced, her face paling, instinctively trying to pull her hand back.
Rupert glanced up, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Not afraid, huh?"
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