He stopped walking out of instinct, flinching as she poked him, but quickly straightening himself when he realized it was just her finger and not a knife. He finally glared down at her, not at all amused whether the gesture was playful or investigative. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to convince a nurse that you tripped on a letter opener in the middle of the night?"
Actually, it hadn't been that hard at all. The middle of the night meant a tired student stumbling around in the dark, and it seemed that she really preferred to believe that to the alternative. That night he had stayed in the infirmary. His wound was very fixable, so he was able to leave that morning. Despite the blood he had lost, he was much more emotionally shaken than physically. "And I think that sweater might be ruined." Mitch still felt he needed to make the point that she couldn't just be stabbing him willy nilly. Even if he was far from surprised or as disturbed by it as he probably should've been, it wasn't something that could continue.