27. His wound

[Amor’s POV]

“Let me see,” she almost yelled at me. I took my hand back.

“What do you want?” I asked her vexingly.

“To apply this medicine on your wound,” she said.

Giving her a look, I got up from the rock and headed near the river.

She followed me. “Amor, I don’t care about you.”

I shut my eyes, then skimmed it from the river to her.

“Then show me you don’t care about me. You can’t come with medicine in your hand for a wound in my hand and tell me you don’t care.”

She gaped at me with blank eyes. Her eyelids soon became heavy with tears that she dried off, blinking. She dropped her gaze and was about to turn to leave.

“Why the hell are ‘you’ crying now?” I sighed, annoyingly. “I am hurt. I should be crying. What is wrong with you? What in the world do you want? Why is it so freaking difficult to understand you? I told you I don’t need your medicine. My wound will heal on its own. I don’t like anyone touching my wounds. Do you get it?”

Her lips trembled as she spoke. “I am s