born of realization.

“Woah, when did you get that?”

“Who did this to you?”

“How many time have I told you to be more careful?”

“You’re saying this was an accident?”

“What a shiner!”

“If you look like this, I’d hate to see the other guy.”

“I’m not buying it, you don’t walk into a door and get a bruise like that!”

“Does it hurt when I touch it?”

“Let me kiss it better.”

“If you don’t rest, you won’t heal.”

“Another fight?”

“What happened to your face?”

“I don’t think your arm is meant to bend like that…”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

“Let’s get you to the hospital.”

“Why are you so calm about this?”

“You’re bleeding!”

“What are friends for, ey?”

“So, instead of helping you, they ran off the moment they saw what was happening?”

“You need to look where you’re going.”

“I’m not accusing anyone, I’m just saying it looks suspicious.”

“Do you want to tell me what really happened?”

“Don’t move! You’ll faint!”

“I’ve got some bandages, wait a sec.”

“You’re the clumsiest person I know.”

“I won’t let you be on your own, not when you’re like this.”

“How could you be so careless?”

“I can’t even look at you, you promised not to get into any more fights!”