Chapter 4York looked at the plates in front of him and then at Torbjorn’s tense form by the coffee maker. Normally, he’d crack a joke to ease the tension, but he didn’t think Torbjorn would appreciate it.
When he poured coffee into a cup and walked toward the table, York held his breath. It was stupid how he was afraid to make a sudden move or say the wrong thing and have Torbjorn run away from him.
“You want to put on a shirt before you eat?”
“Oh…eh…” York looked down at his bare chest. The claw marks had scabbed over nicely. “It’s wet and bloody.”
Torbjorn hurried off, and soon after York heard steps on the stairs. A minute later, he came back down again and handed York a sweatshirt. Slipping it on, York swallowed a groan. It smelled of detergent and Torbjorn. “Thanks.”
“I should ha
