(Lucas’s POV)
The clock struck to ten in the morning when I finally finished my bath. Swaying, because I’m being carried in his arms, I glanced at the clock in a daze for about a few moments, before my gaze shifted to the surface of the bed when Noah put me down on it. Taking care of a human was never easy—I suddenly thought—every time I saw people in the dramas that I watched with Pierre sometimes, but I’m curious as to how in the possibility that Noah made taking care of me look effortless.
He strayed away into the waist length shelf located just beside his cloth wardrobe, opening the topmost drawer before taking out a something that looks like a tube of substance. He sat down, bringing the tube into my view.
“This is...” I inspected the tube.
“A cream. It helps lessen swells.” Noah
