If Chéri had answered, his answer would have probably been something like “a gentleman” and nothing more anyway. And there was nothing either of them could do about that. They both knew it. Nothing was the best-case scenario in this kind of situation.
Chéri nodded as if the answer was of little consequence to them. “What do I need to do?” they were practical. Chéri blinked. Their look was challenging. What did you wish, doctor? Did you wish this didn’t happen to me? It would have happened to somebody else. I am there but to fill a role. You know that I know that. That was all their eyes said, their defiance typical of wounded animals. But they choose silence because they wanted people to believe them polite at least. At least sometimes. Politeness was one of the few things that could do anything against the look.
Chéri shook their head “I put some pomade on it. It was better for a while, it became less red and then it was almost red no more. Then it opened again. No pus, though, only blood.”
