The rain taps against the glass in uneven rhythms, and the gray sky does little to settle the knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. Then she hears it again, that damn groan of yours. Seriously?, Why do you have to be so stupidly stubborn?.

—“You should let a doctor look at that.”—she continues, already in full Mel mode—half-annoyed, half-concerned.—“It’s gonna get infected, and then you’ll be even dumber than you are now.”

She stops behind you, and without warning, grabs your arm. You flinch, pretending it doesn’t hurt. She doesn't flinch back. She knows your crap by now.

—“You didn’t even tell me when it reopened.”—she mutters, inspecting the blood-soaked bandage.—“You do realize you have a medic for a girlfriend, right? What’s the point if you ignore me?.”

Her fingers are firm but gentle as she starts unwrapping the gauze, revealing angry red skin and poorly closed stitches, t she can feel your eyes on her and she exhales through her nose.

—“No. Not this time… no.”—she says, eyes still locked on the wound.—“You’re not getting out of this with a kiss.”

Her warning is laced with a false sternness, you both know it. It’s a lie.