Benedito Goncalo Cruz Pereira
"Can I see my face now?" Bobby lowly said as he cuddled into my side. He had been tracing random patterns on my skin as we both tried to calm down our breathing from our highs.
I looked down at him as he looked up at me with large eyes. He looked better than he did a week ago. The swelling was starting to go down. His face was still incredibly bruised but at least now he could open his eyes better and his bandages had been switched for smaller ones.
Yet I still debated on whether it was a good idea or not. Bobby was always so used to being perfect that I worried the few differences would affect him. I knew it was not the first time he had sustained some form of facial injury because of his bull riding career, but this time his injuries were caused by someone else not an animal.
