Emily’s POV

Daniel pulled me gently up off the floor and led me to the long leather sofa. His split lip was still bleeding, dropping small red spots onto his grey t-shirt, but his face remained completely calm.

I ran to the kitchen, grabbed a warm, damp cloth, and hurried back, sitting beside him on the cushion. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the fabric.

"Hold still," I whispered, pressing the cloth gently against the cut on his lip. "He hit you so hard..."

"Ouch," Daniel muttered softly, though he didn't even flinch. He reached up, taking my wrist and holding the cloth himself. "Don't cry...