[ as soon as the words are out, there's an awareness of how it might sound without the proper context, something that gets confirmed by the shift of her body language, the way she tenses up to signal that he'd really put his foot in his mouth.

rather than scramble to correct himself though, since he's never one to desperately cave in his faults towards fixing his mistakes, he lets the phrasing linger a bit, keeping his face (mostly) composed as he watches the clench of her jaw, the tightness that makes his own grip a bit as he clenches his teeth behind closed lips once he begins to consider his words.

with a sigh, he leans in towards her, maintaining his calm eye contact with her stern gaze. ]

I was thinking — [ he lets the words float for a moment, like he's almost testing to see where her thoughts drift, a fascination in the quick evolution of her responses, from concern to embarrassment, to something that borders an almost sheepish threat. ] That my wound opened up and I might've needed a nurse to take a look. [ his lips curve into a smirk, the smugness hardly a secret. ] Guess my favorite one came to mind.