45.2 The Were-sloth

Angeline

“Lily?” Grant cupped my face, coaxing me to look at his worry-creased eyes.

“What time is it?” My voice was so hoarse that I sounded like a horror movie apparition. Well, I could certainly be one. I’ve been dead and so on, which is pretty much the main requirement for any ghost job.

“It’s 7:00 p.m.”

My eyes burst open. Damn, I was becoming a were-sloth.

Before I could say anything, Grant started as his fingers wandered down my messy hair. “It’s good that you could rest. A doctor came to examine you and she said that you are healthy and your wound is starting to close properly. The healing rate is rather slow, but there is nothing to worry about. You just have to sleep and eat well to regain your strength.”

Seemed like Grant’s dick unlocked my healing function and my body kicked the darkness out. My hoe-hole was right the whole time, and he has indeed got a magical wand.

“So I’m getting better, a little less fucked up,” I huff out a humourless laugh.

The darkness was gone