Mika

Fifty-Seven Mika

His finger trails over the gash on my cheek, and he sighs. "Look at you. Look what he did to you." He pours rubbing alcohol over my cut and blows on it. "Why do you insist on sacrificing yourself for me?"

"I'm not a princess in distress," I reply, trying to simmer the boiling fuel in the pit of my stomach. "I'm the one who showed you how to fight in the first place. Why are you allowed to save me, and I can't? Is this a macho thing? Are you insecure?"

Asiel shakes his head while placing a bandage over the cut on my cheek. "No, it's not that. You just don't understand, Mika."

I jerk my head away from his grasp. "Enlighten me then."

He shakes his head, pushing the bra strap off my right shoulder. Asiel drops his hands on both sides of my hips, dropping his head down as he breathes in and out slowly. Whatever emotion he's feeling, he shrugs it off and grabs a pair of gloves.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Asiel softly touches the area of the wound. "It looks like a clean shot. I'm going to have to take the bullet out."

I lay my head on the bathroom mirror. "Just get it over with, Asiel. Wait. Do you know what you're doing?"

He elevates my arms, causing a groan to slip out. "No. Not really. I watched the familia doctor do a few surgeries. Nothing special. I'm basically an amateur, but unless you want to go to the hos-."

"No." I shake my head. "I trust you. Just do it fast."

"Hold this," Asiel says, handing over an icepack and gesturing to lie on my swelling arm. "We need to numb the area, or it will hurt you. Also, drink this."

After he hands over the whiskey, I chug it down like a bottle of water and feel the burning warmth collect in my stomach. While I'm holding the ice, Asiel sterilizes the cutting knife and needle, letting them soak for a couple of minutes. My heart is in my throat as I watch him lightly bang his hand on the doorway.

I don't even care about the pain I'm about to endure. The only thing on my mind is Asiel and his conscious. What is he thinking? Has the guilt hit him yet? Is that why he's being so distant? He's closing up on me. I can't take it.

I breathe steadily through my nose. "Come on. I'm ready. Let's get this over with."

Asiel doesn't waste a minute. The first cut causes me to grab onto his forearm, digging my nails into it. We feel the pain together. Blood streams down my arm, leaving the bathroom counter in a polka-dot pattern. My breathing accelerates as he goes deeper, stopping to sterilize before going back in.

"I see the bullet," Asiel announces, glancing into my eyes for a second. "I don't have forceps, so we have to do it the old fashion way. You can bite down on my shoulder or pinch me. Just don't move."

He shoves his fingers through my open flesh, and I release a low hiss. My heart is pounding, sweat seeping out from my skin. This isn't my first rodeo, receiving this type of surgery. But it's been so long since I forgot how intense it was. Asiel's vacant hand is shaking, sweat streaming down his forehead.

With a sensible smile, I intertwine our hands and say, "It's okay, Muneco. You are doing great. It's like walking through a garden of flowers."

Asiel slightly chuckles. "I'm supposed to be consoling you."

It takes all my concentration to keep my body from trembling as I feel him grab something within my flesh. "Why? You're the one doing the hard part. I know how much it hurts you to see me harmed."

A noise croaks from my throat when Asiel's hand slides against my flesh and pulls out the bullet from the wound. He drops it into the sink, flicking some blood spatters onto the white sink. "No, you don't."