Luther
I finish showering and quickly dry off. I pull on the boxer briefs I brought into the bathroom and then brush my teeth. I then enter the bedroom, still towel-drying my hair.
My mind is elsewhere while I spray deodorant and brush out my hair. I always leave my hair to air dry; blow-drying takes out the shine and makes it brittle.
Yes, I’m vain when it comes to my hair.
I look at myself in the dresser mirror. I look tired; my eyes are a little bloodshot. I haven’t slept much in weeks; I couldn’t sleep when Jenna was in a coma. All I wanted was to be near her, and I didn’t sleep in case she woke up and was frightened.
Of course, there were times I fell asleep with my head on her hand, but an hour here and there wasn’t enough for anyone. I was terrified that my mate would die, or i
