Strange Nights ( Dr Strange #1)

Chapter 7 : Stay

 Naturally, she shuddered when Stephen's cold fingertips touched her warm skin, lifting her chin. His eyes were fixated on the scrape on her forehead.

"Are you feeling alright?" Well, what a stupid way to begin. Of course, she wasn't, he scoffed at himself. "We should visit the hos-"

"No. I'm fine," she flinched. And staggered into the house.

That's when he noticed the abrasions on her palms and knees. A wave of guilt crashed upon him. Had I hunted that creature down, it wouldn't have hurt her.

"The blood on your dress tells me otherwise." There were a few tired stains of blood on the hem of her white dress that ended just below her knee.

"It's mild. Didn't bleed enough to visit the hospital." She said with a sigh. Even if it had she wouldn't. She never had to visit the hospital even when she had wounded herself badly- they always healed quickly.

"Fine but let's get them treated," he said, stepping in and closing the door behind him.

Without any further resistance, she nodded and walked towards the table near the kitchen, and slumped down into one of the uncovered chairs. The house could be deemed a Halloween mess. White sheets and curly willow branches covered almost every piece of furniture. Stephen glanced at the medical supplies scattered across the table and was satisfied that everything needed was there.

"Have you rinsed them?" he asked while washing my hands.

"Yes." She was twirling the tweezers in between her fingers, a scowl on her face.

"Boiled?" he asked, taking it from her. She nodded in response.

Wiping them off with an alcohol-dabbed cotton pad, he kneeled in front of her. Washing with an iodine or hydrogen peroxide solution would be faster and easier but it would be painful and irritating. And those were the last things he ever wanted to cause her.

Immediately as the tweezers touched her wound, she jerked her leg back.

"Be still, dear." he requested, wrapping his free hand around her left lower leg, holding it still as he began cleaning the dirt from the wound. Her heart had decided to pump faster and her breathing turned uneven too – the same physical responses just like the others. Stephen tried to strife a chuckle, wondering what might be going on in that pretty little head of hers. He wished to intrude into her mind but waited with forced patience for her to say something first.

She seemed to remain strategically silent, driving him mad.

"Is it too difficult for you to... painful -" She trailed off, making him abruptly stop bandaging the gauze. Did she actually know who I was? Had Rachael told her about us? He jerked his gaze up, staring into her (e/c) eyes. If she knew, she would have dared to neither invite me in nor sit in here with me cleaning her wounds.

"Was she close to you?"

Wait, what? 'She'? He was left with no option but to intrude into her mind to understand what she was asking about. Her memories were of that fateful evening. Vis had come up with a neat explanation that she looked like a dead old friend after my sloppy escape. He had returned home late after checking on Y/N, and none of them talked about it.

"Umm... no. A friend from work." What a lie. The only friend from work besides Wong was Christine and she couldn't resemble Y/N in any way. His heart swelled at the thought of Christine. But he had to let go, he reminded himself, everything now had to be Y/N. She was the one he had imprinted.