"What, you're not gonna tell me to fuck off again?" Cain keeps his eyes on the wound, smirk still on his face. He waits till the bleeding has mostly stopped, then tosses the paper towel into the garbage across the kitchen.

"All better. Now have another drink and look through the fridge, find yourself something to eat. What's mine is yours, and all that shit." He notices the tremors, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't really care, either. He got his point across, at least.