His nostrils flare, his mouth set in a grim line as his eyes shoot daggers at me. He doesn't acknowledge my words as he returns his attention to his task. Silence descends as he finishes tending to my right leg. He switches to a new cloth for the left one, cleaning all the dirt off my skin until the previously white scrap of sheet is now a combination of brown and red. Every time he brings the wet cloth to the injured area, I wince, a stinging pain erupting from the site of the wound. He stops each time, raising his gaze to check in with me. I give him a small nod to continue, doing my best to withstand the pain.

When he's done, my legs are clean save for the wounds that are still glistening red, fresh droplets of blood threatening to trickle down my tibia. I expect him to focus his attention on the knee injuries, but he surprises me once more when he takes the third cloth to wipe my left arm, cleaning my palm and the back of my hand. He does the same with the other and soon we're out of cloth.

Oh, God, he's going to tear up another sheet to bandage my knees.

I'm about to ask him to take it from my bed this time, not Thea's, but I don't get to utter a single word as my mouth drops open in shock.

Ze leans forward and places his mouth on my right knee. He flicks his tongue across the open wound, lathering it in his saliva. He trails his lips all over my knee, cleaning the last drops of blood with his mouth.

"Ze..." I trail off, unsure of what to say.

He takes his time, making sure he licks every part of my injured knee. The effect is immediate as the pain subsides. I can feel the skin knot around, mending together. He does the same to the other knee, wrapping his lips around my flesh and trailing his tongue all over the bloodied injury. When my knees are as good as new, he takes my hand, then licks the small scrapes and scratches I got when I fell. As the last wound starts healing, he gives it one last lick before he gets to his feet.

It's only when he tilts my chin up and he leans forward that I realize what he means to do. My eyes widen and I scramble back, pushing him away at the same time.

"Thank you. I think I'm fine." I give him a tight smile.

He frowns.

"But you're still hurt."

"This." I touch my split lip. "It's nothing." I wave my hand. I'm not sure what the stance is on kissing in his world, but in mine it means something. And regardless of whether this is just for healing purposes, a kiss is a kiss.

And I'm married.