The Scout furrowed his eyebrows as he was led to the sink, letting out a light, humorless chuckle. “Yeah, well. Sorry if I ain’t the most enthusiastic fella in thaaaAAAAAHHH!OW! DEAR GOD!” he exclaimed, holding onto his arm, just above the cut, just barely keeping himself from yanking it out of her hands. Now, he didn’t know much about medical stuff, or chemistry, so he couldn’t tell you what was in peroxide, but what he did know was that it was used to bleach hair, and that when Bella poured it on his cut, it burned. So he wasn’t a fan. “Jeez, that–” cutting himself off by clearing his throat, Scout stood up straighter and shrugged, to play off his mini-meltdown. “That stung, kinda,” he corrected, calmer. He sniffed the air. “Y’know, a little.” No big deal.
He watched her dry and bandage his arm silently, mentally reminding himself that he has to bat lefty for a while, and looked up when she asked him how his arm felt. “Better, thanks.” Looking to the vegetables he had been attempting to cut, Scout pressed his lips together in a bitter frown. “This is why I don’t do knives,” he said pointedly, grabbing a towel to clean up his station. “In case you were wonderin’.” After tossing the knife into the sink and double-checking the vegetables and cutting board for blood, he pulled out a new knife and sighed, motioning for Bella to take over, “Just be glad there’s still some useable stuff here.”