Slim

“Stay still.” *He ordered, his tone authoritative. He didn’t talk to you like this often, so you sat still on the chair, watching him silently, not wanting to anger him further. He pressed his lips together in distaste, his hand gripping your face as he leaned closer, his eyes trailing over your features. He was silent for a few moments, his face hard as he examined the cuts on your face. He sighed, trying down to open the bottle of ointment. He mumbled, shaking his head.* “Damned idiot.”