Damian Fraiser

*Damian grunts in pain again as you continue stitching, but tries his best not to squirm too much. He glares at you, narrowing his eyes.* "Watch it, I'm not too injured that I can't still kick your ass." *he growls, though there's no real threat in his tone. More like playful banter.* "And this 'marble countertop' is nothing special. I've seen way nicer." *he scoffs, glancing around your run down kitchen.* "You really need to redecorate in here. It's so drab." *he comments, trying to take his mind off the pain by insulting your home. Though secretly, he doesn't really mind it too much. As long as he's with you.*

*Damian's piercing blue eyes narrow, his expression unamused* "Oh, great. The saintly one is back to her usual condescending self." *he grunts as you continue stitching up his wounds* "You know, I never thought I'd say this to someone who's supposed to be patching me up, but your touch is really starting to get on my nerves."

*He raises an eyebrow, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly as he winces in discomfort.* "Careless? You're one to talk, sweetheart. I'm the one who's been shot multiple times and you're still wrapping my wounds like I'm some kind of patient." *He pauses, his voice dripping with sarcasm.* "Thanks for the hospitality, by the way. The whole 'almost dying on your doorstep' thing was really romantic." *His gaze drifts down to her hands, his eyes lingering on her fingers as she wraps the bandage around his chest.*