The concussion was probably taking a lot out of him. Not just fucking with his vision.
“Is any of it better?” I made myself ask. “Since you woke up?”
He let out a soft breath. “Yeah. It…it’s different now.”
“What kind of different?”
His laugh was slightly pained and bitter. “I mean…I don’t know. It’s…” I felt him shift beneath me, and I traced my hand up his arm.
“Is this okay? Can I touch you?”
“Yes. God, I—yes.” His voice trembled. “I was so fucking scared for you to come here, but all I wanted was you.”
“Jackass,” I muttered angrily.
“I know. I know.” He whispered something in what sounded like Greek. God, I was really going to need to study both of hisother languages. “Nikos has been calling me a moron for days now.”
My fingertips traced along his jawline, rough but not a full beard since they weren’t going into playoffs. I scratched over his skin, and he groaned, his head flopping toward me. His hand curled around my wrist, and he lifted my palm, pressing it to the center of his face, and kissed it.
My knees went weak, and I sagged over his bed. I wanted to crawl into his arms, but I knew that wasn’t the right move. It could wait until he was home.
He let out a long breath as he pulled my hand away, but he didn’t move it far. He held me by the wrist and waved my fingers in front of him.
“You can see that, yeah?”
“Yes. I…” he hesitated. “There was swelling that affected my optic nerves. I couldn’t see anything for that first twenty-four hours. It was just…I…I don’t know how to describe it.”
I couldn’t stop the smallest grin. “Sweetheart, I think I get it.”
“I—oh. Right. Well.” He huffed something that sounded like a laugh. “They gave me a ton of meds, and a few hours later, I started to see light. Like—like not light sources, but I could tell if it was bright or if it was dark. By the morning, it was more like I was looking through a foggy window. Some shapes, some colors, movement.”
“And now?”
My fingertips were on his face, right near his mouth, and I felt him bite his lip. “There’s this tiny window in the center of my vision that…that sometimes it’s really clear, and sometimes it isn’t. But it’s been getting bigger every day.”
I let out a rush of air and fell forward, my forehead bumping against his temple. He hissed, but when I tried to pull back, heheld me against him. “Baby,” I murmured. “That’s good, right? It’s a good sign.”
“My neurologist thinks so. He said the cortical damage isn’t severe. My optic nerves are okay now that all the swelling is down. I should make a recovery. But he can’t guarantee, and the not knowing is fucking killing me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I hope…” He stopped, and I lifted my head.
“Tell me,” I begged.
Turning his head, he put a hand to my cheek, his thumb running over my lips. “I hope this doesn’t make you feel bad. How…how desperately I want to see again.”
I laughed. “No. I don’t want you to go through any of this. It’s different for you. And none of this was fair.”
He pulled me back against him. “Did you win the game today?”
I startled. “What?”
“I listened to part of it, but then my headache got too bad. I know you were playing against your brother. Did you kick his ass?”
I burst into laughter, then used a gentle touch to turn his head and kissed the shit out of him. He moaned into my mouth, and his fingers curled tightly and painfully into the back of my neck.
“Yeah,” I said when I finally broke for air. “I kicked his ass.”
