“It’s going to sting a bit…” warned Cal, an alcohol soaked cotton ball in hand.

My hand gripped the edge of the bathroom counter. Alcohol? Wasn’t this the stuff that humans used to drunken themselves? Why was he putting it in an open wound?

I sighed. I supposed I should trust him. I mean, after all I did almost break his nose and he’d handled that much better than I had. Plus, he’d successfully roused me from my near comatose state…

“Go ahead…” I consented. He dabbed the cotton ball on the cut on my forehead. Apparently fainting in a bathroom with a granite counter isn’t safe…

I hissed as the alcohol did it’s job on my cut. Cal waited a moment before placing a skin colored bandage on my head. I believe it’s called a “Band-Aid”?

“Good as new,” he said, placing a hand on either side of my legs. I shifted, the counter top sticking to my skin.

“Um…thanks. I should get going,” I mumbled, moving to slide from the counter.

“What? So soon?” He leaned closer.

I was trapped. This was a problem.