His expression looked a little fierce, and there was no hint of emotion in his eyes. It was like you were staring at a blank paper, then you were cut unconsciously. I would have liked to argue with him, but looking at his condensed expression, I couldn't help but swallow my words back. I tried thinking about what to say and tried opening my mouth to say something but no words came out. Finally, he opened his mouth and said,
"Follow me."
So I followed him and we went to a separate room. I followed him inside and proceeded to sit on the sofa. I watched him walk to a cabinet and took out the first aid kit. He opened it, then took out cotton swabs, anti-inflammatory medicine, and other things he needed. In skilled movements and long fingers flipping, the things to be used were quickly and neatly laid out by him.
He then put a moderate amount of alcohol in the cotton and applied it on my wound without warning.