Henry just hummed and wheeled me back to the bed.
Then he went back to the table and started to carry the plates and cutlery back to the kitchen.
I waited, hoping that the frightened puppy would gather the courage to approach the bed, but after he washed the dishes and reentered, he just sat on the couch like before.
With our eyes locked, I watched him from a distance.
Wanting to touch him.
Wanting my overdue hug.
Kisses, pecks, and nuzzles—the octopus-like behavior around my neck.
"I miss you," I mumbled.
He was silent for a long time, the fist he had his head propped up with clenched noticeably, the leather gloves aching faintly.
"I miss you too," he said huskily but didn't move to come over.
I smiled lightly and closed my eyes.
At least I heard him say it back.
I couldn't sleep for a long time and just stayed still, exhausted, probably still from overusing my powers.
Maybe it wasn't bad to run around with a plaster; at least it stopped me from moving too much.
