Bertha was applying a cream that the physician had given to Zerith's chest. She didn't feel awkward running her fingers over his bare chest because she had done that before though it was about ten years ago.
It would have been definitely a bit awkward if he was awake. But as long as she didn't feel his intense gaze grazing her face and his deep throaty voice distracting her with his sweet words that acted as a guilt trap, she was fine.
Her fingers trembled while running on the large patch on his chest that was still coloured bluish-purple. The physician said it would take some time for his broken ribs to heal.
Zerith not only happened to be lucky but was strong enough to bear that pain and not get that kick a little above and over his heart. Or...
