“Careful,” I mutter, one hand steadying her waist, the other guiding her down.
She lets me.
That’s the thing.
She lets me take care of her.
I prop pillows under her leg, adjusting them until she’s comfortable.
She watches me the whole time.
Soft.
Warm.
Like I’m doing exactly what she hoped I would.
“You’re good at this,” she says quietly.
“At what?”
“Taking care of someone.”
I shrug it off. “Basic human decency.”
“Mmm,” she hums, like she doesn’t believe that for a second.
We put something on.
I don’t even know what.
Some movie neither of us is really watching.
She shifts closer.
Then closer.
Until she’s practically tucked into my side.
And then?—
She just… lays down.
Right across me.
Head in my lap.
Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I freeze for half a second.
Then my hand moves on instinct.
Slides into her hair.
Slow.
Gentle.
