Dutch never knew he could’ve gotten a guardian angel, but he did and he was forever grateful.

Dutch watched your white hands move across his arm gently, wiping the cut clean with a rag. Your skin had always been so beautiful to him — it was white like snow and as soft as it.

His free hand moved to your hand, gently taking it off of his arm. “I think it’s clean enough, eh?” He said softly, his gaze never leaving your small and soft hands. It was like he was hypnotised by them.