Something shifted in him.For once, he didn't argue with my feet.He stayed close as I dragged myself forward, hovering without touching until the wall came rushing toward me and his arm appeared, sliding around me slowly, carefully, like he was offering rather than taking. Like he understood that my body belonged to me and entry required something resembling permission.I gave him a small nod.Not because I wanted the help.Because the floor was hard and my pride had limits.Back in the living room, I leaned my weight against the couch and stared blankly toward the kitchen while he gathered my things. Quiet and efficient, no wasted movement, no unnecessary sound. He located my shoes, tucked the ones I wouldn't need into my bag, then tilted his head toward the couch arm.Sit.I sat.I kept my eyes somewhere else while he crouched and worked the sock onto my good foot, then the shoe. His fingers grazed the bandaging on the other ankle light, barely there but nothing stirred in me th
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