Chapter 7
Things change between us after that night. He’s even more open with his touches; he makes sure to brush against my hand in the mornings when he gives me my mug of hot chocolate. He hugs me, wishing me a good sleep before I go to bed, and it’s not a friendly embrace with the appropriate distance between our bodies. No, he cuddles up close, plasters himself against me and holds me tight.
His slim body against mine feels heavenly. He’s no longer as gaunt as he used to be—regular meals at my house have helped with that—but he’s still willowy and waif-like. He’s half as broad as I am, and when I hold him in my arms, I feel like I’m his protector, as someone who’d take on the world for him.
He’s not hiding the way he looks at me. His gaze lingers, and the emotions in his eyes range
