Killian is sitting on the small window balcony, looking out. He looks so calm, deep in thought. As if his back doesn't look like the work of a butcher.
I take another breath and take another step closer to him. As soon as he hears me, he turns his face and watches me approach.
"How did you know I was hurt?"
Distracted, I place the first aid kit on the floor and start rummaging through things, not quite sure what I'm doing. I find an anesthetic spray and shake it out, then read the instructions, still not knowing what I'm doing. The last few days I've done my own healing on my hand wound and even removed my stitches, but I feel like everything in the medicine cabinet is new to me.
I have never felt so unsteady in my life, not even when Demyan had me hanging in shackles with my feet ba
