“No, I’m okay. Hey, got yourself some ice yet?”, he walked past by her and opened the fridge, getting and ice pack and a towel from the kitchen island, covering it and approaching her, “let me just…”, he said softly, being way too closer to her and pressing just softly the tip of the cold ice pack to her nose. “Feels better?”
“Oh.”
She’s chewing the inside of her cheek, not knowing what to do with her hands – let alone the rest of herself. Things were always going to be different with them. He made her feel like a foolish teenager most days. So she just so casually leans closer, hands on his shoulders.
“Much.” Then she smiles, embarrassed when she’s suddenly realizing what she was doing and pulls her hands back, going to take the ice pack from him. “Thanks.”
