Vincent made a sympathetic face as he washed the blood from her back. "I know kitten," he cooed, "but we have to clean up. We're nearly done."
He took his time on purpose, letting the sponge move in small, slow rhythms on her skin to draw out the process. When he was satisfied that enough time had passed, Vincent turned off the water and took a couple of fresh towels from the cupboard, wrapping Isabel's hair up in one and using the other to dry her off. "Why don't we cover up those cuts," he purred, giving her a nuzzle as he guided her out of the bathroom.