Her plaintive plea undid him and warmth and sadness filled his chest. He wanted to protect her, take care of her, and she’d gotten hurt, almost killed because of him. Some hero he was. He took the bottle and helped her wash her hair. They worked as a team—he gave her everything she needed and she accepted it without fighting him.
After he’d seen that she was clean and warm from the hot water, he asked if she was done.
“I feel better, but still sleepy,” she admitted.
“Then let’s get you into bed.” He helped her out of the shower and dried her thoroughly with a fluffy white towel. She stood mute and half-awake as he helped her into a large t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, then tucked her into his bed. He’d wake her soon, but for now he’d let her rest. She curled into a tiny ball beneath
