A Summer to Forget

From the moment I was dragged onto that plane, I wanted nothing more than to turn around.

But as soon as I stepped off the plan - in another country - I never wanted to get back on.

After my first day here- after him- I never wanted to leave.

But, as usual, there was bound to be some bumps in the tarmac. And let's just say, this was a life changing bump.

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I look at him to find that he already has his eyes on me. He looks pained to be in this situation. Part of me is very curious as to how he ended up with these wounds and another part of me is very curious as to why he would let a stranger work on wounds as such. But I try not to think to hard on what he is thinking and focus more on his lacerations.

"This needs stitches. These gashes are too deep and you're bleeding too much." I look up at him. He furrows his brows before reaching between my knees to grap the steralized pad I put there.

"Just put the pad on" he grunts, shoving the pad at me and looking away.

"I can't do that." He gives me a pointed look. "You'll bleed out in a matter of hours. If not that, then your wounds will be infected by the time we get off this plane. You'll be lucky if you don't get gangrene." I sternly tell him.

"If you hadn't noitced I didn't exactly bring a needle and thread. How do you expect to stitch me up princess?" He lifts his brow and shoves the pads at me again.

I take the pads and think deeply about what I am going to do next. I have an idea but I can't be sure if this is going to work. If I just patch him up and leave him like this, he is going to be in extreme pain for the rest of the flight. And each minute he waits to get it properly fixed up, his chances of survival without damage slowly dwindle down.