It has been a week since he recovered. He thoroughly enjoyed his time being unwell because it meant I had to feed him with my hands. Occasionally, I even helped him wear his shirts and take care of other small tasks. But at night, we still didn’t share a bed. I insisted he take the bed while I slept on the couch. Our nights were often filled with conversations and quiet glances. Like before, he didn’t bother to draw the curtains, which allowed me an unobstructed view of him. His habit of sleeping shirtless was becoming increasingly annoying at times.