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He has to wear a face mask when we leave the room, so I can’t see his mouth, but I’m pretty sure he smiles almost the whole time. We make a big show of looking at the pictures on the wall, and when we’ve walked enough to see them all, he stops and tucks my hair behind my ear as he catches his breath.
“You’re pretty.”
I tug his gray beanie down around his ears and kiss his chin. “You are.”
His happy eyes look sleepy. We walk back to his room with our arms around
each other, Kellan’s free hand pushing the IV pole. Arethea whistles as we reach the door.
“The two love birds,” she teases, in the soft Brazilian accent that I’ve come to love. She smiles at Kellan, then touches his cheek. “Up and moving. Onward, onward!”
She comes into the room with us, and when she leaves, we stretch out on the bed together. I tug Kellan’s beanie off.
I swear, his lack of hair makes his eyes stand out more. All the weight he’s lost hones his features in the best possible way—showing off his beautiful bone structure. No one has ever looked so perfect. Now that he’s awake again and able to reciprocate, I can’t keep my hands off him.
Our next endurance exercise is the following morning, when we go down the hall to the kitchen to cook eggs and toast.
Kellan insists on eating a few bites, even though all he’s required to eat today is TwoCal and three cups of yogurt. We walk the halls for longer than I would have thought possible. Kellan tells me where he grew up... in this cottage overlooking the ocean. He tells me about a trip he took to Georgia with his family when he was little. About his first kiss—a girl named Molly, in the coat closet in his first grade class—and about his peewee, middle school, and high school football days.
All day, he tells me all about himself. He’s straightforward in a way he’s never been before.
He falls asleep just after lunch and I tuck the fleece blankets around his shoulders, then curl up beside him. I’ve gotten used to napping, too.
I wake up to find him leaning his cheek in his palm, watching me. I lift my head and realize his other hand is stroking my hair.
I stick my tongue out. “You watched me while I was sleeping?”
“Only fair.” He smiles.
I run a finger over his cheek, where the bruises from the wreck are almost gone. “I guess so. I could probably sculpt you now. I drew you lots.”
His eyebrows lift. “Is that right?”
I smile and nod. “You want to see? I’m not much of a sketch artist, but you might get a laugh.”
“Yeah, let me see.”
I go to the desk for my portfolio, and when I open it, I find three yellow legal pads. They’re filled with Kellan’s handwriting. I whip my head around toward him.
“What are these?”
I look back down and notice a sparrow tucked into the briefcase. It’s folded badly. “You did this?” I laugh.
He just smiles, and I bring the things back to the bed. “Shall I unfold it? Did you write on the inside.”
His mouth twitches a little with his tired smile. “Check and see.”
I unfold it to find a quote I wrote myself.
Followed by Kellan’s familiar penmanship.
I look up at him through tears in my eyes. “That’s beautiful. I love you too.” I wrap my arm around him and he wraps his arms around me. His hand cradles my head against his chest. His lips come down on my hair.
“Those notebooks are yours. You don’t need to read them right now. But they’re yours. I wanted you to have them.”
I lift the notebooks out. I was wrong at first glance; there are three of them, not two, filled completely, back and front of every page. I blink back tears. His tongue laps my skin.
I cover my face. “Sorry, I’m being stupid.”
