My-Wolf

"My ears are ringing. I'm having nightmares, when I can sleep, that is. And nothing tastes the way I expect it to."
I watched him inhale the rest of the sandwich. Apparently hunger pains won over taste. "You have a fever for starters. That could make you shaky and achy."
He half-smiled at my unwitting rhyme.
"As for everything else, I'm not sure. I know I need to change your bandages."
"Can I shower first? I stink."
"Okay. And I'll see if I can find you a better shirt." I left him sitting at the table while I went in search of clothes that might fit him. Since I slept in oversized tees, I knew I'd find something.
A couple of minutes later, I handed him a T-shirt with Edward Cullen's gorgeous face plastered across the front of it.
Jonah winced. "You've got to be kidding me."
"It's that or Winnie the Pooh."
He took the Twilight shirt.
"Bathroom's through there. Towels are on the shelf. Razors are under the sink." I pointed to my bedroom. He got up and left.
My mind went nuts as I automatically cleared the table and finished putting my groceries away. Were the wounds infected already? Had my salve done nothing? I reached for the first aid kit on top of the refrigerator and for the Tylenol in the cabinet. Jonah found me sitting on the love seat staring at the TV when he walked out of my bedroom in his jeans and bare feet. He smelled like melons, courtesy of my body wash, and had shaved. He held the clean shirt.
I patted the cushion next to me.
He came and sat, turning so I could see the soaked bandages. I began with the one at his waist, which sort of stuck since it was under elastic. Jonah stood and pushed his jeans and briefs down enough that I could reach it.
Flustered, I peeled off the tape and gauze. One word immediately came to mind: angry. The skin looked bruised, bloody, and swollen. I didn't think it had healed at all. In fact, it almost looked worse. I swallowed hard. Why hadn't the salve worked? Even Brigit thought it would.
"What?" demanded Jonah.
"Maybe I should've gone with the potion instead of the salve."
"Potion?"
"Liquid medicine."
"I know what a potion is. I just can’t think of anyone who might actually use that word besides J. K. Rowling."
I shrugged. "I just finished a semester of basic herbology. That's what my teacher calls our concoctions." I didn't add my secret suspicion that she'd probably have been comfortable teaching at Hogwart's.
He sat back down. "So there was a potion you could've made?"
"Yes." I gently pressed the edges of the wound. He sucked in a sharp breath. I jerked my hand back.
Jonah picked up a discarded bandage and frowned at the greenish-gray residue on it. "And you made this, instead?"
"Yes."
"What's in it?"
I told him.
"Maybe peroxide and antibiotic ointment would work better."
"Maybe." I felt my cheeks flame and my confidence as a fledgling holistic healer tank. Somehow I managed a casual shrug. "This may hurt."