Space was a good thing, that he didn't mind either. Chris inhaled deeply through his nose - something recommended, along with yoga. Neither really were ever picked up though. "You're good," he assured her again, before giving in to an odd impulse. He was one of those gentlemanly guys usually - the one who kept his space and did the chivalrous things. But as it was, when her hands came out of their pockets with the tissues, he crossed a line he knew he shouldn't have He took her wrist, carefully turning it up to show the cuts. They didn't look good, raw and he could see bits of - something in there already.
"I'll live," Chris said. "This, you might want to get looked at. Was this because of the first person?" An odd sort of anger welled up then. Why didn't this get taken care of? She needed- "Bandages. You should get some bandages on this. And wash it, you know-" He was trying to think right, but he was floundering. These things he was not so good at. "You live here, then?"