"You really should be more careful." Fitz murmured quietly into the gentle opening wound along Olivia’s fingertips.
"I don’t mind you making your little jams, so long as you’re not injuring yourself."
Fitz had sprung to action at the sharp sound that traveled from the kitchen into the study, where he had been nursing a scotch while pouring over this report, and those numbers. Her sound of discomfort had managed to sound over the heavy slop of rain was pouring over all of Vermont in the true spirit of autumn.
Soon it would be winter. It was best they enjoy the snow-free streets while it lasted.
"Be more careful, will you?"
His question was rhetorical of course. Olivia and careful seldom went hand in hand.
Deciding not to comment on that further, he settled with cleaning the last of the blood the sharpened blade had drawn from her tender fingertips. Once content with his handiwork, Fitz planted a fleeting kiss to each injured finger.
The gaze that glanced up to hers was filled with private amusement. He set her hand down gently. “You know I can’t make bottles, and change diapers.”
”You may not know how, but that never means you can never pick up a thing to learn or two.”
Olivia looked on in admiration to the soft kisses that’d been pressed to her fingers. A smirk on her lips she pressed a napkin to her finger and set aside the knife and jams she’d been preparing.
A first aid kit kept in a drawer under the sink, it was an easy and simple fix to something so minuscule, but she was aware that he might worry over even the smallest things when it came to her, especially now.
”What were you up to before you saw fit to come to my very unnecessary rescue?”