After a moment of silence, he stood up and slowly unbuttoned his clothes. Because he was still wrapped in bandages, he only wore a jacket over his upper body. When all the buttons of the jacket were undone, she naturally saw his bare chest and the layers of bandages across it.
"Do you want me to take my clothes off?" he asked, his arm slightly raised, but his face seemed even paler.
She suddenly remembered that his military knife had also cut his arm before. In fact, every movement of his arm must have tugged at the wound.
"No… no need…" she hastily said, tears already rolling uncontrollably from her eyes. Even though one of her hands was still hooked up to an IV, her other hand gently touched his wounded area, "I'm sorry… I… I can't do anything..."
She choked with sobs, remembering how she could only stand dazedly in the interrogation room, watching his self-harm, until he covered her eyes with his hand.
