Carefully, Noel once again untied the knot of Emilia's robe as she stood completely still, before placing it onto a chair. He took the moment not because he wanted to be meticulous of her gown but because he needed a moment to compose himself lest he go and kill that bas*ard right away. That would be the last thing she needed.
Gathering her hair, he tied them into a bun before he started to apply the medicine to her wounds. His touch was lighter than a butterfly, his fingers grazing over her skin with the lightest of touches, as if afraid to cause her any more pain.
Emilia stiffened as she felt his touch and tears continued to fall. Every stroke of his hand seemed deliberate and every time he noticed her flinch, he would gently blow over the wound, making her feel things she had no business feeling when he was only being considerate.
