He dropped her down on the couch with all the bags. He was more intent on pulling out all the purchases than looking over his own wound. "Oh, right. Ice." He came back with a towel full of ice after he'd dropped half of it on the kitchen floor. He dumped it in her lap, proceeding to take off her boot so they could see the real damage. He was gentle but every time she hitched her breath he stopped moving and looked at her as if she needed to tell him he could proceed.
When her shoe was off he looked at those damned stockings. "Really?" He had a pair of scissors in the kitchen he was ready to just cut a hole right above the ankle and rip off the foot of those things. He hated them.