HAZEL THE FOODIE

HAZEL

A broken glass is stuck inside my skin and Jackson is looking for something to get it out.

"You're an idiot, you didn't have to get yourself hurt." Jack says with a grin on his face. I roll my eyes and push myself up on the counter.

"You're an idiot. You made the mess." I grumble, watching him dig around in a drawer for the tweezers.

"But I was smart enough to wear shoes after glass had been broken." He says with mockery in his tone.

"Just, shut up and get the glass out of my hand." I roll my eyes. Suddenly I feel guilty and add a "please?". Jack holds up a set of black tweezers and grins.

"Yes ma'am." He agrees, "I will." He groans, concentrating with a scrunched face. I roll my eyes.

"Okay, it's starting to burn again!" I whimper when he starts picking at the glass in my hand.

"Why can't you do it yourself?" He grunts, trying to find the glass. The open cut and glass in my hand burns, but to add to it there's pickle juice on the glass, making it feel like my hand is on fire.

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