Lost girl

A healing process

Hovering his hands he looks lost needing to see  your stomach to help you, "cut the dress!" You yell giving him direction,
"Oh right, of course,"

He picks up the same diamond encrusted letter opened and teared you dress, you don't dare look down as you already know how bad it would be.

"Well it's a long one but it's not that deep,"
"Oh so that makes it fine!"
"Obviously not," he rolls his eyes before bounding up and frantically searching some cupboards at the other end of the cabin,
"Where are you going?!"

He runs back with his find of some herbal mixture in a jar,
"It's my mother's recipe of pain reduction," he says and opens your mouth and pouring some in, he has an apologetic look on his face.

At first, it tasted dry but the flavour kicked in and wasn't too bad.

The pain eased afterwards while he works on stitching and cleaning you up.

Tensing your face as the needle went in, he sees this and squeezes your hand pushing it in abs pulling it out tying your skin inch by inch.

You stare into his concentrated eyes filled with regret and beg him with no words but looks to make the pain go away.

After tying the knot on the stitch, he pauses and looks down, you let out a sigh of relief that it's over.

"I'm sorry I put you through that, I should have killed you, it was weak to give in," he stands up, putting on a stern look.
"It's o- actually, no! It's not ok!" You go to stand up but it creases again, "you sliced- ahhhh! Sh!t!"

He goes to help you up but you brush him off and get up by yourself,
"Well since your well enough to do that then, your well enough to be tied up!"
"What?!" You realise you have wronged by refusing his help and is dragged onto the main deck, while walking he whispers in your ear discretely, "that never happened."
"What never happened?" You reply putting on an innocent tone.

In the corner of your eye you see him smirk, you roll your eyes still baffled how someone's mood changes so fast.

He slumps you down, you feel the pain again and scrunch up your face, he rolls his eyes after seeing his father watching him about to tie you up, you notice his forehead get sweaty as his nerves kick in, you remember how badly he ties knots.

He looks over at you whilst picking the ropes up, he whispers to you, "I saved you," he was right, the least you could do was help him out, "pay it back, right here, right now," you sigh.
"Cross them, left one over and then under," you wait for him to finish that, "make a two loops," he does so, "cross them, left under and over," he looks at you and you nod, telling him he's finished.

"Finally! A bow? Pathetic, but It'll do," he criticised his son with a stern voice and frowned at him as though he was disappointed in the smallest thing.

He turns to you and widens his eyes as if questioning why you had told him that method, you smirk at him and mouth, "you cut me."
Rolling his eyes again, you both hear a shuffle above you and you look up.

Above you standing on an extremely tall plank was Peter, he looked terrified but couldn't say anything with the scarf wrapped around his mouth. Hands behind his back with a tussled rope like yours and ankles glued shut with the same thick string.