11. Burn: Nora burns her hand.
"Sonofabitch!" Hancock woke with a start, falling face first off the couch. "Oh my God! Hancock!" Someone was pulling him up, "are you okay?"
"No. Did you see the brand on the brahmin that stomped my head last night?" He asked.
"I'm so sorry," Nora apologized profusely as she helped Hancock sit up.
Hancock rubbed his forehead and bent over to pick up his fallen hat. "What'd you shout for anyways?" He grumbled.
"I," Nora turned away and walked back to the kitchen, "I burnt my hand on the stove. By accident." She added when he furrowed his brows at her. She'd changed back into her colonial duster, ring hidden under her scarf. Hancock was thankful for that. Out of sight, out of mind.
"Sure you did." Hancock stretched.
"Well, I don't exactly have oven mitts here in Sanctuary." Nora put her hands on her hips.
"Then I think it's time we stop sitting on our asses. Your leg should be healed up by now." Hancock stood up, "wanna hit the town?" He asked. They'd been stuck in Sanctuary since her medical visit to Diamond City, and Hancock was going stir crazy being cooped up in the same house as Nate's ring for five days. He clenched his jaw, hating how his thoughts always returned to the fact that Nora would never be his.
Nora grinned and grabbed her rifle as she ran over to him, "You sure know how to cheer a girl up." He grinned back at her, holding the door open for her and closing it after him. Nate be damned, Hancock could force himself to be content as Nora's sole friend and companion.