Lyle finally noticed the bloodied tissue and was stumped. “Why hasn’t your wound healed?”
I snorted and scrambled for another bottle of medicine to apply it on my arm. “I’m sorry to disappoint you by not healing as fast as Wolverine, nor am I impervious to getting hurt.”
What is Lyle trying to accomplish, exactly? He was really a bummer. I did not visit Grandma because I wanted to heal my wound faster so that I can head out without much difficulty. Is he ever going to leave me alone?
“Can you drop the sarcastic tone?” Lyle was fuming.
“When you’re hurt, and someone comes barging in, hurting you further, and smashes your medicine, are you going to cheer the person on while admiring how dashing he looks?”
I peered at the man and applied the cotton swab dabbed with medicine on my wound and wrapped fresh bandages over it. The stinging pain of the scalded wound on my right arm resulted in a lopsided and loose bandage.
Lyle finally decided that it was time to offer help and said impassively, “Let me help you.”
I was not about to let my ego stop me from getting help. After all, if I had rejected him, I wouldn’t know how bad it would tick him off and I might be the one to suffer worse injuries later. Lyle did a worse job than Christopher. Toward the end, I had to refrain from shouting profanities from the pain that he was causing from wrapping the bandage too tightly.
I took out the balm for scalded wound, and this time he took the initiative and applied it to my wound. All of a sudden, he regarded me intently and sighed. “It has been so long since I’ve last seen you being this quiet. How I wish you can always be this meek.”
I chuckled to myself. So should I continue being a meek lamb by your side so you can trample all over me? The tiniest bit of gratitude I felt for him dissipated into thin air right then.
“Why are you looking for me?” I snapped.
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