The water was running. He took off his jacket, let it slide from his shoulders and fall heavily to the floor. It reeked of blood. If he could see the lining, he supposed it must be soaked, if his tee shirt, or what remained of it, was any indication. He shivered, now cold, and wondered how he would go about cleaning his wound. There should have been a simple answer, but it eluded him. A wash cloth. He needed a washcloth. But the only washcloths were up stairs. Unless there were some in the laundry baskets, but the laundry room seemed miles away. He could use a dishtowel. There were dishtowels in the cabinet next to the stove.
He moved towards it and stumbled, the counter preventing him from crashing to the floor. He knew he needed to kneel down to open the cabinet, but he felt dizzy. He just needed to stand for a moment. He'd be okay soon.
"Ken?"
Startled by the voice, he would have whirled about, were he not so lightheaded. Sudden movement was entirely beyond him. But thought was still at least partially accessible and he knew exactly who the voice belonged to. Knew immediately and was petrified.
Aya. No. Nonono. Dammit. Please go away. Leave me alone. Don't come near me. I'm fine, I'm fine, I don't need you. I don't need anybody. I'm okay, I'm okay. Please God make him go away. I don't want him. Not now.
He closed his eyes tightly and wished to disappear.