When I woke up the next ti, a gloved hand was on my chest.
But because I was still only in my boxers, I could feel the leather already before I opened my eyes.
Henry was sitting on the bed, and seeing him staring down at up close, it seed I had slept for a long ti.
"How long did I sleep?" I licked my parched lips, his eyes following the motion stickily.
The hand over my chest didn’t move.
"A few days."
I raised my hand and rubbed my eyes with my fingers.
"Did you sleep?"
He humd,
"Also a few days."
"Good, we need to catch up on so rest." I looked at him for a long while before letting my eyes wander over the bright room, the sun coming in strongly through the big windows.
"Hungry?" I think we have turned old because all we do is talk about eating and sleeping.
Henry humd, and his gloved hand retreated out of the blanket, sliding over a patch of skin and making shudder.
The spot the leather, ward from my own body heat, had rested on felt cold now, incomplete.
But I’d much rather it had been a direct touch to leave cold.
"Alright. Get us a bunch of spaghetti, passata, olive oil, and cheese."
Henry wheeled into the kitchen before disappearing, and this ti he needed no pointers, given the al not being that difficult.
Nevertheless, seeing him cooking, even if it was only waiting until the water was boiling, was already a feast for the eyes.
When he finished, I was wheeled to a table close to the one we had sat at yesterday, where the ga from yesterday still was.
Henry got the plates and cutlery, and we started to eat.
No—I ate, and he watched, only eating when I was already finished, making watch him in return.
This ti we made a huge plate of spaghetti, and I finally felt completely full.
"So... are you going to wheel out and about the amusent park today?" I asked and saw the gloved hand freeze, not delivering the twirled spaghetti to its destination.
Henry gave a long glance.
Before he could start either humming or accusing of wanting to run away, I continued,
"You don’t want to go on a date?"
"..."
"A date?" He asked back emotionlessly.
"Yeah. Amusent park equals dating spot." I gestured to the window beside us, giving a view of the empty location that could also be used to film a horror movie.
Henry looked down at his plate for so ti before nodding and eventually continuing to eat.
I tried to suppress the grin growing on my face, but I wasn’t able to.
"Alright, can you get so clothes?"
He didn’t look up again but agreed, so I propped my head on my hand and continued to watch the puppy eat.
When he finished and cleared the table, he disappeared again.
I had just wheeled myself to the bed when he reappeared with MY whole closet.
How do I know that?
Naturally, because it looked like it, but also because there was still a clear incision where I had stabbed my kitchen knife into the wooden door.
Henry had appeared at the wall behind the couch that reached into the room to separate the dining area from the beautiful view for... I don’t know either—a cozier lounge area? It was difficult to say because Henry had removed most of the furniture from their original places.
The closet was there, which was a good spot because one didn’t need to change in front of the windows—even if there was nobody there that could peek into it at this height and with this place being goddamn abandoned.
He disappeared again and reappeared with the small light from our room that had been beside the mattress—even though there was no electricity.
Then he brought a bunch of other items of which I had no idea what we’d use them for—a drawer that didn’t co from our room, so no clue what was in it; so blankets; and curtains.
One might ask, ’What should we do with the small curtains from the house when we had huge floor-to-ceiling windows here?’
The answer was, ’How the fuck should I know?’
Anyway. He next went to the closet and brought out so clothes for . Bringing them over, he placed them on the bed beside , looking down at .
I sighed,
"Can you get so scissors?"
I needed to get out of these boxer shorts.
He disappeared and reappeared with what I asked for, handing them over with the handle pointing at .
I took them and cut my boxershorts open before wriggling out of the cut fabric.
Then I stopped and looked up at Henry.
Fuck... even if we had done it already and being half-naked in front of him wasn’t an issue for , being stared at so blatantly and short of exposing myself completely felt like another thing.
"Want to turn around?" I asked him.
"..."
There was a short mont when I thought he would answer with his usual pouty ’No.’
I even had the feeling his lips had already started to form the word, but in the end, he turned away silently.
Pulling the fabric that was barely covering away, I took the fresh boxers from the stack of clothes.
Alright. And how do I put it on now with that fucking plaster on my leg?
I rubbed my eyes with my fingers in disbelief at this whole situation—the thing was that going through this much to ensure the puppy would beco less insecure or sad didn’t feel like a problem in the slightest.
This must really be....
I bent forward and tried to get the boxershorts over the plaster, and it unexpectedly worked, making thankful for not wearing these gay, tight-fitting ones.
It took a bit longer, but given my clothes were always loose, I could make ’pulling my pants up’ possible.
"Alright, now do we have a restroom here?"
Henry turned back, continued to stare at , then wheeled to the restroom.
This ti I didn’t have to say anything, and he disappeared to bring my toothbrush and toothpaste back.
I brushed my teeth while sitting, washed my face while standing on one leg, and felt fully prepared for the mont I’d break my leg for real.
"Let’s go." We didn’t have towels, but I had the shirt I was wearing to dry my face.
For our first date, I would have put so aftershave on or gotten a bunch of flowers, given that the puppy liked them so much—a suit and roses would be too cringy, but I definitely didn’t think one of us would be in a wheelchair.
Henry stood behind and wheeled out before getting sothing and kneeling in front of .
One single sock, one single shoe—how fucking romantic.
When I was dressed, he wheeled to the right, to the only other wall here besides the one behind the bed, the one behind the couch that reached into the middle of the room, and to the left, where the restrooms were.
We ca to a wide but not really long corridor, with about five elevators to the left that would surely not work.
To the right was a glass door leading to the staircase.
I stood up on one leg and asked myself how to get down if Henry still wouldn’t want to touch , but there was no such issue.
After disappearing with the wheelchair, he ca back and scooped up in a sitting princess carry, as if he hadn’t kept his distance for so long.
I circled my arms around his neck, my plastered leg secured by his hold.
I felt him freeze slightly before opening the glass door with one hand and started to carry down the stairs.
He still had the hood covering his hair, so I nuzzled in on the side, finally feeling his warmth.
The skin of his neck against my cheek—the little dark space was like the better version of the one I had made myself with the table and the coin.
I could hear and feel his pulse accelerating when I took a deep breath.
"You sll so good." He really did; our upgraded bodies really did their job in staying clean by themselves.
"..."
"You too," he eventually whispered.
I placed my lips against his neck and started to suck on his skin, having missed him so much that I was going crazy.
Henry shuddered under my action, our roles being reversed. It was usually him who couldn’t stop misbehaving, constantly distracting .
His hold on tightened, but the up-and-down motion of going down the stairs didn’t stop.
"Stop..." the puppy protested weakly.
"Why?" I asked when letting go of the spot I was hell-bent to leave a mark on.
"Please..." He didn’t answer, just begged weakly—for what, I wasn’t sure.
I listened and burrowed my face against his neck instead.
"Alright. You tell when I can continue."
He humd.
And I only missed him more after regaining a bit of closeness.
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