*Rosie Fay-Donovan*
“Are you not going to tell me why you’re covered in blood and drunk as hell?” I tried again, studying Archie carefully. He didn’t look wounded or bruised—truth be told, the blood didn’t even seem to be his.
I guessed I was more pissed at seeing him drunk and unaware of my annoyance, but I decided to be a bit more cool about it. It wouldn’t help to snap at him right now.
So, instead of waiting for him to give me an answer, I just grabbed him by the hand and seated him on the couch before I headed to the bathroom to grab a first aid kit.
As I sat in front of him and started to clean his fingers and arms, I could feel Archie’s gaze on my face, observing me.
“How was your day today?” he asked in a failing attempt to engage in a conversation with me. If he knew any better, he’d have stayed quiet and pretended I wasn’t even here.