Page 91 of Overcast

“I’ll be quick.” He doesn’t wait for permission, pushing it back to where a sudden chill racks my body.

Emric takes a seat on the bed next to me, tucking the blanket into my back and attentively making sure it’s still wrapped around my legs.

Lifting my shirt, his eyes flick to my wound. “I need to change the dressing later, okay?”

Whatever.

He doesn't wait for me to speak, already privy that I'm limited to what I want to say. Also, fully mindful that nothing I want he can give me right now.

Standing from the bed, he tucks me back in, and I feel his eyes peering down at me. I don't know what he expects from me, a "thank you" or some sort of conversation?

"If you need something," he professes. "Let me know I'll be downstairs. Did you want to watch TV?"

I shake my head.

"Alright, I'll be back later." That has my eyes clip back to his face, and when they do, he smirks at me.

Again, whatever.

“I know,” he replies to the silence on a sigh. “I’m excited about it too.”

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