(Author's POV)
"You are thinking way too much, Myra. It is just a children's storybook from my childhood," Fabian clarified, then he changed the subject. Keeping the book safely and out of her reach, on the topmost shelf, he then clasped Myra's injured hand gently and led her to the sofa, stating, "Now, forget about that. Let me clean and dress up your wound."
Myra sat obediently on the couch as Fabian settled right beside her, never letting go of her hand. He untied the tie he had used as a makeshift bandage. The piece of clothing had turned from blue to a shade of purple. Myra hissed slightly as the last layer of clothing was unwrapped. A diagonal abrasion was very well visible on her beige skin tone.
