"Alright."
Tiffany walked in carrying a small first aid kit.
"The doctor has already left.
Grandma Calvin asked me to change your dressings.."
Grandma Calvin was right.
Apart from the two of them, everyone else here was male—clumsy-handed and likely to hurt Calvin if they tried to help.
Grandma Calvin's eyesight wasn't the best either, so it had to be her.
Calvin instantly understood his grandmother's intentions, the corners of his lips curling helplessly.
This old lady—really.
"Alright," he said, his peach-blossom eyes glinting with faint amusement.
"Then I'll trouble you."
"It's no trouble," Tiffany replied, setting the kit on the table and organizing the supplies.
"If it weren't for me, your wounds wouldn't have worsened like this."
At these words, both of them couldn't help recalling what had happened the night before, their expressions faltering slightly.
The atmosphere between them instantly grew intimate and charged.
