“Okay?” I whisper against his sweaty neck.
“Sorry,” Harper murmurs tiredly.
“I didn’t ask for an apology, punk. I asked if you’re okay.”
“Just tired,” Harper finally says. His fingers untangle from my shirt, only to grab on to my forearm. I don’t care; I just want him to keep touching me.
“Do you normally need anything afterward? Something to drink? Chocolate? Favorite food I can go buy? Anything, name it, and it’s yours.”
Harper sniffles pitifully. “Just lie with me. I hate being alone.”
His request is so earnest, his voice so sad that my heart crumbles all over again. I tuck my arm underneath him so his head rests on my bicep and tuck my head back into the crook of his neck. We lie there unmoving for so long that the sun stopped peeking through the drawn curtains around the bedroom windows. I picture the stars coming out above Harper’s little bungalow, protectively twinkling and shining over us.
After a while, I realize Harper’s fast asleep. At least I know he had a good lunch. I gingerly ease my arm out from underneath him and climb out of the bed. Honey lifts her head to watch me leave but drops it back down when she notices I’m only heading towards the kitchen. The fridge is still just full of premade meals. I want to make him something homemade, something hearty and nourishing.
I try to turn on the stovetop, but nothing happens. Is it broken? Every lesson my father taught me about home appliances comes rushing back. Finally, frustrated beyond relief, I tug the oven from behind the wall only to find it’s not even plugged in. The confusion disappears when I realize why it’s not plugged in. I push the oven back into place, deciding not to fuck with Harper’s appliances.
Maybe I can convince him to let me stay, let me care for him until he feels better. The lonely bottle of coconut water in the fridge will have to do. Armed with the coconut water and a bowl of dry cinnamon cereal, I head back into the dark bedroom.
Harper slowly rolls onto his back when I gingerly sit down on the bed. Blinking those big, green eyes up at me, he seems momentarily confused about my presence. Crimson blooms on his cheeks in obvious embarrassment. I want to swoop him into my arms and cradle him close, kiss his cheeks, bury my nose in his hair again. But that time has passed, and if I try again, I’m not sure how well it will be received. Standoffish and skittish Harper has returned to the building.
“Don’t you even try to apologize to me,” I order him.
He averts his gaze from mine. “Okay.”
“I’m not going to force you to talk to me now, but we’ll talk at some point. Friends talk, right?”
Harper shrugs. “I guess. I’ve never been one for friends.”
“Andy’s your friend, right?”
Pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead, he sighs loudly. “She’s my second cousin. We’re family.”
“Family can be friends,” I easily point out.
“I guess. Is that for me?” Harper asks, shakily pointing at the coconut water.
I hurriedly remove the lid and hold it out for him. Sitting up, he carefully takes it from me, our fingers brushing as he does.He looks so exhausted; all the color on his face from earlier bled away.
“Can I acknowledge Honey?” My voice is deceptively calm, even to my own ears. But fuck, I want to show Honey how much she means to me. How thankful I am for her.
Harper makes a soft sound of permission and wiggles his fingers toward Honey in what I assume is permission. I lie down across the end of the bed, proceeding to lovingly run my hand up and down Honey’s flank. Her big brown eyes blink at me, seemingly also tired.
“Thank you,” I whisper before kissing her wet nose.
She promptly sneezes in my face, earning a delighted, yet still tired laugh from Harper. Paying Harper no mind, I continue to love Honey, until she dozes off under my gentle ministrations. Her fur is so soft, I could pet her for ages and never get tired of it. I don’t think she would either.
“She really likes you,” Harper remarks, voice tainted by tiredness.
“I like her too. Mostly because she keeps you safe when I’m not here.”
“You don’t have to keep it up, you know.” Harper keeps his gaze firmly on the bedroom wall. I have no idea what he means.
“What are you talking about?”
He sweeps a hand up and down his body. “Now that you know… you can run.”
“What the fuck?” I say out loud, not exactly meaning to. I sit up on the bed, jostling Honey and waking her from her well-deserved nap. “Why would you having seizures make me not want you? Make me not want to be your friend?”
