On the bright side, the sting of the disinfectant should drown out the pain from the stitches, at least for the start. It's not ideal, and he'll have to pull those out later causing her to bleed again, if less than this, but it's the best they can do at the moment.

At least he doesn't even flinch from the screaming -- heard plenty of that -- or the hand clutching at his arm, and sutures the cut with a steady hand, fully in focus. It only takes a few more stitches and he's pulling on the ends, tying off the thread and pouring some more disinfectant over it before reaching for the towels.

The disinfected piece of towel comes first, then a bigger, dry piece that covers it fully. Then he wraps it up with some long, narrow strips to hold the bandage in place, carefully testing the pressure to make sure it's enough to stop her from bleeding out but not so tight than the circulation in the rest of the arm is compromised.

Alright. This should be good.

He finishes it with a double knot, and only then glances at the hand still clutching at him, though he doesn't do anything to remove it. He just looks... a bit awkward, maybe, like he's not sure what to do about it.

"All done. You can spit that out now."