Damned Jonas to hell for calling and making reality intrude in our little bubble of attraction, cuddling, and dreams for the future.
“Uh, I need the bathroom.” I squirm, as to prove my point.
“Sure.” Isak gets out of bed and helps me to my feet. “How’s the ankle?”
“Better, I think. Or it’s not awake enough to realize it’s hurting yet.” But it’s not as painful today; the throbbing is less pronounced and while it’s still uncomfortable to support my weight on it, I’m able to get around by myself if necessary. We both ignore this, and I let him help me to the bathroom.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have a spare toothbrush. But there’s mouthwash.” He points it out and grabs a clean towel from the vanity and hands it to me. “Yell if you need help.” After a quick kiss to my temple, he leaves me to
