Searing, blaring pain sunk through your hand, the throbbing veins aching with the itchy burn bleeding into your muscles.

The hot tears stream down your face and you seek refuge and privacy in your elbow, face stuffed into the nook of it, eyes continually squeezing shut. You hear the sink turn on and a new wave or sizzling pain stings your hand as Carmen rinses it with lukewarm water. “I know, I know.” He tells you gently, his head whipping back as his hands continue to sooth your burn.

“Yo, who the fuck left the hot pan on the counter!” His voice booms through the kitchen, tone quick and hard. His hands still gently treating your burn with water.

The kitchen was still moving relatively quickly, only momentarily paused by the display of your sob when initially touching the misplaced hot pan. Tina was grabbing a bowl for you to stick your hand in for the time being, though your pain very slowly started sizzling out. “‘S okay?” Carmen checks in with you gently. The blazing red blister already bubbling on your hand.