"What?" I asked trying to free my hand from his grasp, but failed because or has strength.

"We still have to look at your other one," he said while pointing at my stomach.

"Uh...I can do that myself," I said, still trying to free myself.

" No, I promised with the guys that I would treat all your wounds," he said while trying to push me down on the couch.

At first I resisted until he lightly tapped my side and I immediately crashed onto the couch, groaning in pain. "See, now tell me that you will still treat it yourself," he said with victory. I surrendered and I sat on the couch while pouting in defeat. "Now, lie down," he said. I gave him a questionable look as I firmly planted my on the couch. "What? You didn't think I would be able to take care of it in that position," he nonchalantly said while looking through the kit. I sighed and I slowly reclined back and I relaxed and I maintained avoiding eye contact. He slowly lifted my shirt and was shocked at all the cuts and scars, old and new, as I kept looking away, trying to brace myself for the reaction. "Woah, how long have you been doing this and why were you trying to hide it?" he asked while still eyeing my stomach. 

There was a brief couple of of seconds of silence until I broke it by saying," A couple of years, I don't want a fuss " I pulled my shirt back down, regretting letting him try to look at the injuries. I sat back up and took the box from him, closing the lip and tried to stand up. I was going towards my bedroom door when a hand  stopped me again followed by a worried voice," Wait, I haven't treated it yet,"

"I'll do it my se-," I said while I reached out my free hand towards the door knob when I was lifted off the floor which made me shriek in surprise.