After a Frank started a fight in the bar, we went to, I took the car and drove home. Half an hour later, I was in our bedroom watching TV when I heard a door slam open and shut again. I stood up as our bedroom slowly opened to show a cut up, bruised Frank. His lip was busted, and there were several cuts on his knuckles. I glared at him intensely with my arms crossed.
"Uh h-hey baby." He said.
"Don't 'hey baby' me."
"Okay I know what you're gonna say but--Ow!"
I plucked the cut on his forehead, causing him to flinch.
"Okay granted, I most likely deserved that."
"Most likely?" I asked raising my eyebrow.
"Okay I totally deserved that."
"You're damn right you did, Frank! I was so worried about you! What were you thinking?!"
"Im sorry babe, but he started it! He should've never grabbed your waist! You supposed to be mine!"
"Bathroom."
"What?"
"You heard me. Bathroom," I pointed out in the hallway, "Now."
"Yes ma'am."
Frank hung his head and walked to the bathroom while I went to get an ice pack. I came back and he was sitting on the toilet lid. I handed him the ice pack and he rested it on his lip while I got out the bottle of rubbing alcohol and some cotton balls.
"I can't be yours if you're dead, y'know." I said pressing an alcohol soaked cotton ball to the cut on his forehead.
"Ow, dammit." He muttered.
"Good."
"I said I was sorry, baby."
"I know, I just hate to see you hurt like this. Especially if it was for no reason."
"It wasn't for no reason, it was for you. Shit!"
He was holding his stomach and I thought it was one of his stomachaches starting. Every now and then, his stomach would just start hurting without a reason. But then I noticed there was a diagnal slit in his shirt and reached down, about to lift it but he held it down.
"Frankie, lemme see."
"It's nothing."
"I need to clean it."
"(Y/n) don't worry about it. I don't want you to freak out."
I forcefully pulled up his shirt to reveal a diagnal, 4-inch long cut from his side to the side of his stomach, leaking blood. I quickly plucked Frank in the head again.
"What? It's not that bad. I said I didn't want you to freak out."
"Frank what the hell happened?"
"Babe it's noth--"
"If you say nothing one more goddamn time, I swear to fuck Frank, I will put hand sanitizer in your cut."
He didn't respond for a minute. He realized how worried and serious I was. He took a deep breath then spoke.
"The guy pulled out a pocket knife."
"Jesus fucking Christ. You could've died!"
"I'm fine."
"Frank just get in the fucking shower."
I turned on the shower and and we undressed ourselves. We hopped in and Frank grunted lowly as the warm water hit his cuts. I hugged him from behind.
"You worry about me too much, baby." Frank said.
"You make me worry too much. I love you so much Frankie."
"I know. But y'know what the best part about this is?"
"What?"
"I still won the fight."
"You're an idiot."
He turned around and held me close.
"But I'm your idiot."
"And I love you so much."
"I love you too baby girl."
I kissed his nose leading us to make out in the shower.
