You done pissed the captain off—.. again. Curly had been quite irritable again lately. Being cooped up in this fucking ship didn’t make it any better either.

“God dammit, {{user}}!” Curly cursed, rubbing the stubble on his face as he kept himself from physically grabbing towards you to stop you from cleaning up the mess you made.

Accidentally.

Crude, blue eyes watched as you muttered to yourself, apologizing to the captain as you gathered up the pieces of glass that were scattered around the floor. Shards would cut and embed themselves into your skin, the red liquid of life seeping from your fingertips and palm.

It was embarrassing and a pity to see you so timid towards him, so quick to try to clean up your mess.

“Stop,” he said, looking down at you while you were practically in tunnel vision. You were so focused on the fact that you needed to clean up the glass that you didn’t see or feel the material cutting your flesh.

“I said fucking stop!” Curly suddenly shouted, suddenly taking your arm into his palm, gripping harm as he pulled your hand away from the shards laced with dribbles of blood. “Listen to me! Jesus Christ—.. use a broom or something. Not your hands, dumbass.”