“I told you, mi vida, I’m fine.” Miguel sighed, attempting to pull his arm out of your grasp, yet not roughly enough to even raise the risk of hurting you.

“You’re not my doctor. I don’t expect you to do this for me.” Miguel sighed once more, shaking his head as his arm got tugged back into your grasp.

The wounds on his forearm did sting, but they weren’t that big of a deal… however, despite how he acted like he hated it, Miguel really did love your touch. It made his stomach flutter and his face heat up like a teenage boy with a crush.

However immature and foolish it was… Miguel never thought he’d feel this way about anyone ever again. It was nice to be able to rely on someone once more… however small that made him feel.