I woke up in a cold sweat, breathing hard. I closed my eyes, not even wanting to take in my surroundings I dug the heels of my palms into my eyes. Sure that I would tear up if I didn't, I attempted to sit up but my chest and legs screamed in protest. I groaned in pain the events of the night rushing back into my mind. I uncovered my eyes and turned my face to the left where I saw Geralt crouched next to me fresh hot cloth in hand.
"You're okay," he stated resting a hand softly on my chest, careful to avoid the fresh wounds while also warning me not to sit up.
He wiped sweat off of my forehead "I'm gonna clean the wounds on your cheek," he paused able to see my discomfort. "don't worry, I'll be gentle." he said quietly, I blushed furiously.
He chuckled, but decided mot to make my embarrassment worse with further comments, I turned my face away so he could access the wound with ease. He was gentle with the cleaning of the slashes but I still winced every time he touched my face. He eventually stood up walked a few paces away and returned with a bottle of alcohol. "Got this for you while you were out," he stated eyeing the bottle of hard liquor, "thought it might help with the pain, or at least give you some courage... not that you need any seeing as you shoved a witcher down a hill," He smirked I made the mistake of mimicking his expression which made the wound on my face burn. My smile was quickly replaced with a grimace.
In attempt to get my attention off the pain he continued, "I'd say sacrificing yourself by jumping in front of that beast was the brave part, but I think most people in this village would say it was staring me dead in the eye shoving me then making fun of me for it takes more guts." I huffed out a laugh, but I barely listened to what he had to say so much as his voice. Low, quiet and rough, it was the voice of a man who usually didn't speak this much. He tilted the bottle that was still in his hand, in a silent question, I shook my head. "I don't... drink" I grimaced, knowing everyone drinks, but he didn't question it, he just put the bottle on the ground. He reached next to me and pulled out some materials to dress the wound.
He got up and rang out the cloth, coming back with it fresh and settled back next to me. He reached for the collar of my shirt and started to undo the buttons, surely to clean the scars that were bound to form on my chest. Before he could get to a second button my hand flew up grabbing his wrist with surprising strength for someone of my stature. This clearly shocked him but he stayed clam simply shifting his gaze to my eyes as I forced myself into a sitting position despite the pain that tore through me. He made a show of slowly pulling his hand away and quirking a brow, not verbally asking his question, but it was one I didn't want to answer.
I just shook my head curling into myself a little.
"I'm just trying to help, I promise." he tried knowing I wouldn't speak first. "If I do anything wrong, tell me and I'll stop. Right away. No questions asked." he spoke with a level of respect I'd never received before, and I almost agreed to let him clean and dress the wounds.
Instead I told him, "I'd rather do it myself," not meeting his eyes.
"If you ask me to stop I will, no matter what." he spoke firmly tilting his head and lowering himself trying to get a glimpse and my face which was looking down to avoid his gaze. He gently reached out to my chin, giving me plenty of time to stop him. He turned my head to face him. "I won't hurt you, in any way. You can trust me, I promise." he spoke with such sincerity it broke my heart, when he continued, "Please trust me to help."
I sighed deeply no doubt tears visibly welling in my eyes, "No." I spoke firmly, I made it clear my decision was final.
"Okay," he said a little hesitantly before turning around and leaning on the cot I was now perched on. Stubborn, I thought as I knew this was him giving me as much privacy he was comfortable giving someone as small as me while injured, I still huffed out a loud breath to let him know he was overreacting. "Will you tell me why I can't help you?" he asked in equal parts concern and curiosity.
