“They’re not just paper cuts,” he says. “She could get infected. There are cuts on her feet too.” Dr. Taylor nods and kneels down in front of me, a medical kit on the floor beside him. “I see, Mr. Kennedy,” he says, nodding, as though Alexander is right, and my injuries are actually grave.
Oh I am eating this up unfortunately. Need a golden retriever boyfriend. Aaron is sort of like this I guess haha.
