Twenty-One
I groaned and rolled over in the bed, trying to work out how I got home and into my own room in the first place.
"What happened?" I asked, my voice coming out croaky.
"Watson brought you back," Mika answered softly, leaning in to help me sit up properly.
"Are you okay?" Things started to flood back in, and I tried my best to get them into order.
"Yes. Thanks to you. I don't know how to tell you how grateful I am," she whispered. She swept a piece of hair that had escaped her bun away from her face.
"Just stop offering your blood at every turn?" I suggested.
"When you gave me yours? That's not quite how it works." She chuckled.
"It doesn't do me any damage for you to accept mine."
"It made you sick," she countered, mopping a cloth over my forehead.
I kind of liked that.
