When I wake up again, Hunter is sitting on the couch, surrounded by papers and other things. He’s scribbling away in a notebook and then typing on his laptop. I stay in the same position I’ve been in for a while longer, just so I can look at him, observe him. He looks so serious. I didn’t realize he could be serious like that. Sure, I’ve seen him annoyed-serious, or worried-serious, but never working-serious. He’s so focused that he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s got his tongue between his lips and a giggle escapes me. It’s cute.
Hunter looks up at me, confused. “What?”
“Nothing.” I sit up. The fever isn’t as bad as it was this morning, but I do know that I’ll have to take more painkillers soon. I don’t want to change back into a zombie, no matter how much Hunter cares for zombie me.
