“Sleep what off?” I ask, even though we both know exactly what he means.
My head feels light. Too light. The room keeps shifting, left, right, in slow waves. Axel’s hand is around my waist, warm, steady, and his eyes are glued to my face. It’s almost like he’s forcing himself not to look anywhere else.
“You want me to slip it off? My clothes, you mean?” I whisper, because right now it feels like we are sharing a secret.
His jaw flexes. “Hazel,” he warns. And I don’t know why, but I laugh even harder.
He shakes his head, muttering something I can’t understand, and steps closer.
“I don’t think you should be in a bathroom or you should be operating any machine. You shouldn’t be operating the water, so there’s no shower for you tonight. No bath. You’re going to sleep.”
“Sleep,” I echo. “
