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Summary
He inspected his hand, peeling back the blood-soaked cloth to check the wound. Lando, watching him intently, suddenly seemed to remember something. His breath hitched as he rifled through his jacket pockets. Carlos raised an eyebrow, and then Lando pulled out a small band-aid, holding it out.
Carlos stared at it. It was pink with tiny hearts.
Of course it was.
“For you, obviously, idiot,” Lando said, smiling as if reading Carlos’s thoughts.
Carlos looked at the band-aid and then back at him. This wasn’t going to end well.
This was never going to end well. And one of them, maybe both, was going to get hurt. Carlos, ever selfless despite his flaws, silently wished that if anyone had to suffer, it would be him.
Series
- Part 2 of The first cut is the deepest