He opened the door before I could even get my key in, catching me swiftly as I tumbled inside.
We stood staring at each other for a time, his hands steady on my shoulders.
As if conscious of his actions he suddenly released me, and headed towards the couch, where a blanket had been thrown down lightly.
"I made popcorn," he said, motioning towards the large red bowl on the small table in front of the television. As if that small act, that small kindness erased our argument. And in some ways it did.
"What are we watching?" I asked, as I carefully peeled off my wet coat, hanging it by the door.
"The live news feed of people lining up for their injections," he spoke, staring at me quizzically.
"You're soaked right through," he stated, staring at my shirt now clinging to me.
"Did
