Teague opened his eyes.
Mina's goose-bump speckled arm was thrown across his chest, holding him securely. Her doe-like eyes were closed.
He loved her. She had to know that he loved her.
Every aspect of her was perfect in his eyes. Teague noticed the marks on her neck and chest where he had hurt her. They were still red and raw. There was still blood.
He moved carefully, taking himself out of Mina's sleeping embrace. He kissed her hand and pulled the blankets over her. She looked so cold. Teague went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, soaking it in warm water. He took a look at himself in the mirror. His ghost pale eyes still startled him when he saw them. A light rain began outside and he could hear the pitter-patter drops on the windows. Teague returned to his bed and slid back into the covers, then began to lightly dab at Mina's wounds, but being careful not to press too hard on her fragile skin. Mina's eyes fluttered open and her eyebrows furrowed.
"What are you doing?" Her voice was hoarse from crying. He had heard her crying in the night. Teague couldn't meet her eyes.
"There was blood still. I just wanted to help. I'm sorry I woke you," Teague mumbled. Mina closed her eyes again and let him finish. When Teague was done, he simply dropped the towel over the side of the bed and onto the floor. Mina looked up at him again.
"How do you feel?" he asked. She gave him a thumbs up and a sleepy grin. "You're lying." Teague jumped out of bed and began pacing. Mina remained silent.
