“Hey, beautiful.”
Yazid stirred at the voice and yawned. A cheery nurse had woken him for breakfast, and then he’d been poked by a consultant, and then he’d dozed. And now Ali was kissing his hair and stroking the backs of his knuckles down Yazid’s face, not quite so painfully gentle as the day before.
Yazid frowned.
“That’s it?” he asked. “Where’s my proper kiss?”
Ali laughed, and pressed a chaste kiss to the edge of his mouth. “You’re feeling a bit better, then?”
“Mm. I can think. And my neck feels miles better.” Read: he didn’t feel paralysed when he so much as twitched.
“Good,” Ali said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Tony got bailed this morning. He’s got conditions not to come within two hundred metres of our flat, two hundred metres of you, and not to contact you or try to c
