I'll take this chapter note to explain a bit - first off, sorry for my two-year's absence, some stuff happened and I (had to) abandon(ed) the story. But now I've picked it back up and am currently also re-writing and re-editing the percious chapters, seen as (mostly the medical things) simply do not make any sense because, I, an obnoxious 16-year-old at the time, did not bother to research anything - which, from my current perspective is something I'd never do! So there you go, old story, old me, poor writing, techniques and language ... but I'm older, better at caring about research and with a C2-level English, so I guess that's that.
What I want to say is, people change and to be honest I didn't really like myself back then either.
Now onto the story!
Chapter 9 - Thresholds
"You're leaving already?"
Freya stood in the doorway. Astrid looked up from the opened sports bag in front of her and smiled.
"Yeah," she said. "Hiccup's coming to pick me up at three." She suddenly remembered her fractured arm and leg that were almost as stubborn as her post traumatic concussion, and made a mental note to ask Matthew if she could start using crutches whenever her arm had healed properly and she could apply pressure.
"Pity, almost." Freya commented with a soft smile and a light tone in her voice. Astrid returned her gaze, quizcally. "How do you mean?"
"Well," Freya smiled and wandered over to her. "I really liked having you around. And now, you're my patient for-" she checked her clock. "for only another seventeen minutes. I'm going to miss you, Astrid." the young nurse admitted and smiled.
"I hope that wasn't inappropiate."
Astrid laughed softly. "It wasn't, don't worry." After a moment of consideration she added, "I mean, if you want to, we could keep in touch. Exchange numbers. I'll tell you when I get my memory back."
Freya nodded excitedly and sat down on the other end of the bed. "Sure; I'll give you my number and then you can just call me, I only have my beeper on me."
Hiccup knocked at exactly three o'clock. Freya, Astrid and Doctor Emrys, who had come to officially discharge her, looked up.
"You're punctual." Astrid noted and gave him a smile as he took off his coat and hung it over the rack at the door.
"Well, I couldn't keep my wife waiting, could I?"
The word 'wife' still made her feel strange, even two weeks later. Astrid didn't really know what to say. It was okay, she figured, because Hiccup didn't seem to know either.
To avoid an awkward silence, Freya got up and made her way towards the door. "I'll get going now. It was really meeting you." A bit quieter she said just to Hiccup, "good luck. I really do believe you'll get her back."
"Thank you."
Freya smiled, turned one last time and waved to Astrid, then quietly left the room. Matthew had been standing next to her the entire time, watching her get up and leave and now saw Hiccup walk over to his wife, carefully asking, "Are you all set?" The young woman nodded. "I think we can go," she answered with a glance towards Dr Emrys, who just put up his hands and laughed.
"Well, you're not my patient anymore, so I don't have anything to say in this. I am, however," he added more seriously this time. "Still your friend, so I will help you with the bags."
The car ride was a rather quiet affair. Astrid was full of expectation, anxious almost, to see what their home would look like. She remembered Matthew talked about a small, cramped flat, but Hiccup had mentioned they had moved into a bigger one some time after they got married. We thought, it's better for - for later. We want to have kids, someday, he'd told her, quietly, with a sudden sadness in his eyes and Astrid felt a sting of guilt inside her chest but when she apologised, he had just sighed and said that it hadn't been her fault. She had dropped it then, but hadn't really stopped thinking about it.
After a while Hiccup asked, "Do you mind if I put some music on?" disturbing her thoughts, fumbling with the volume control.
"This is one of your favourite songs," he said softly. "We wanted to go see Kate Nash so badly, but all the tour dates were clashing with our holiday plans. Who knows, maybe next year."
There it was again, that sadness in his voice.
Astrid felt dead. In Hiccup's eyes, she probably was. His wife had died in that car crash and had left him with her 17-year-old rip-off that did not match his 28-year-old heart.
Her own heart got heavy at that thought. Suddenly she felt very, very out of place.
"I love you," Hiccup suddenly said to his hands. Astrid froze. Did she hear that correctly? She must have misheard him.
"I really, really do," he whispered, confirming that she had indeed heard correctly. "I love you so much it hurts."
Astrid did not know what to say. She couldn't answer. She didn't even know what real love meant to her - but probably to her it meant the person sitting right next to her, with his eyes firmly set on the road, his knuckes white from the tight grip around the steering-wheel.
"Hiccup," she started, desperate to tell him that she wished she could say it back, say anything at least -
"Toothless is going to be so glad to finally have us both back home," Hiccup said before she could continue, picking up his habit of rambling after saying something he regretted, Astrid knew.
"He was really restless these days, but I think it'll be fine once we're home. Dad also wanted to stop by one of these days; I'm not sure if he will though, he's been really busy lately. That's why he wasn't at the hospital, work has been a mess. I know I should probably have been there, but he threatened to make the whole company sign my redundancy notice," he laughed nervously. "If I dared to set a foot into the building."
They stopped in front of an apartment complex. He grappled with the wheelchair for a while, then succeeded and helped her get in. Astrid insisted on moving it herself, so he led her to the entrance of their apartment. It was a tall, brick-red building with an oriel window and a small balcony facing the street. Astrid felt excitement bubble up in her chest at the sight of it.
Hiccup's hands were shaking as they fumbled with the car keys. Astrid pretended not to notice.
I hope the plants are okay, she thought absent-mindedly instead and her eyes widened as she realised what she'd just thought.
"Do we have plants?" she asked urgently. Hiccup replied yes, many, most of them in the kitchen and living room. Astrid didn't even pay attention as Hiccup climbed up the steps leading up to the apartment, too focused on the tiny detail she'd just remembered.
Then, at the sight of the door in front of her she suddenly got very nervous and realised that Hiccup had stopped in front of her. Sheepishly he turned around to her, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I can't pull the wheelchair up there, that's too many stairs, I'd give you another trauma," she heard him say and at the same time asked, "Did you carry me?"
"What?"
"What?"
"You first," he decided, coming down the four steps that divided them. "You go."
Astrid's fingers were pricking. "I just wondered," she mumbled, embarassed now. "If you, uh, carried me. Across the threshold. After we ... got married."
To her surprise, Hiccup laughed.
"Well, that's sort of what I wanted to ask you too, then!"
"What do you -" Astrid let out a yelp when Hiccup's arms suddenly wrapped around her, one supporting her legs, the other her back, and picked her up. Hiccup smiled apologetically. "I'll get the wheelchair once we're upstairs."
Astrid just stared at him. She was sure he just had to hear her heart thumping so loud that she worried it might jump right out of her chest.
"I did carry you," he mused and started walking. "You were laughing the entire time. I bumped my head on the door frame because of you."
He chuckled softly; it sent vibrations down his chest and Astrid was sure that by now, he heard every single dyastole and systole of her heartbeat. If he did, he made no indication of doing so. With his wife in his arms, Hiccup climbed up the staircase of the hallway. Astrid counted two stories until they stopped in front of a door.
"Hold onto me for a second," he muttered softly. "The door always gets stuck."
Astrid nodded and quickly locked her arms around his neck. She wanted to ask if it was okay but the words got stuck in her throat. She could not recall being this close to another person, at least not voluntarily. And that was when it hit her: it wasn't only that she simply didn't mind having Hiccup this close - it was that she wanted him to be. She was enjoying it.
The door clicked open. Hiccup made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat and gently warned her he'd pick her up again now. Astrid nodded and closed her eyes when her uninjured foot left the ground.
Hiccup kicked the door open; Astrid tried to remember something - anything when he stepped across the threshold of their shared home, inhaling deelpy. The only thing she smelled now, leaning against his chest, was his aftershave. It smelled good. Familiar, somehow.
The room they stood in now was mostly dark. The only thing she saw was Hiccup's jaw, clenched in concentration. Click - thump. Click - thump, made his steps in the dark. His peg leg had become such a normality to her over the past few weeks that paying attention to it now felt odd.
"Why is it so dark in here?" was the only reliable sentence she had to offer. Hiccup snorted. "I let the blinds down yesterday before I went to sleep. To keep the heat in for when we get back."
Astrid only nodded.
"I'll show you around a bit," Hiccup's voice followed her silence. "Once we reach the light switch." She smiled. Almost unconsciously her arms went back around his neck with another deep inhale. She decided she liked the way Hiccup smelled. She wanted to keep that smell around, she also decided.
The room lit up.
They were standing in the middle of a living room. Astrid felt all the sensations crashing down on her, as if she had been hit. It felt difficult concentrating on only one thing at once.
Everything looked sort of jumbled together, but ... fitting. Cozy, even. There was a small wooden dinner table at the end of the room, in front of a big window. The room was very spacious, with a big, fuzzy carpet lying in the middle and a couple of indoor plants standing around. Astrid could see an open door at the right side of the room, maybe leading to the kitchen.
Hiccup showed her the rest of the living room; there was a corner with a big, cozy looking sofa with a smal table in front of it, an arm chair along with a wall full of bookshelves, and a television.
"Upstairs we have the bathroom, the balcony and two bedrooms," she heard Hiccup say, her ears directly on his chest.
Suddenly, she started, realising there were other means of transport for her than Hiccup's arms. "Hiccup, the wheelchair," she blurted out and the young man reacted immediately, for the first time consciuously registering that he was still holding and carrying her in his arms. "Oh, right, yeah, I'll - uh," he stumbled towards the sofa. "-just drop you off here and get it, um. Sorry."
I forgot about it too, she wanted to say, but instead she smiled. "It's okay. Really, don't worry."
He smiled nervously and quickly went back downstairs. Astrid watched him leave and then leaned back into the cushion he had quickly arranged behind her back, sighing deeply. She really could not imagine living with him - he had been around in the hospital most of the time, yes, and of course, she had got used to having him around, but really living with him? In the same space, an apartment they shared? The sudden thought occured to her that they hadn't talked about where she would sleep yet - did he think they'd just go back to their usual habits? Did she want to? - and didn't know if she had the courage to ask him about it.
A sudden weight on the cough interrupted her thoughts. "Oh, hey, Toothless," she whispered and gently scratched him behind the ears. The cat started purring and settled down on her lap, snuggling into her torso. Astrid laughed softly and sighed.
"I really should have been back earlier, I know." She trailed off, staring on the carpet. "Technically I shouldn't even have left. I should have just come home that evening. I should - I should remember who I am now, at least. I should remember you. And Hiccup. And this house. But I don't, isn't that crazy?" She uttered a cheerless laugh. "I know nothing, nothing at all, except that we have plants and that somewhen, somewhere I was laying in bed with Hiccup. That's pretty sparse for nine years." Out of all sudden the words were just spilling out of her mouth, she just could not stop talking. "He didn't leave my side once, in a whole week. He just ... sat there, on that stupid chair, staring at my stupid face, waiting for me to wake up. Freya had to make sure he ate properly!" Anger was bubbling up in her, making its way up in her chest. "And I'm so ... angry, I'm angry at him for neglecting you and himself, I'm so angry at that driver, I'm angry at my stupid brain, I'm angry at me for not being able to love him back the way he loves me, and I want to, Toothless, I want to love him so bad. I see how hurt he is. I can see it in his eyes, every time he looks at me, he's searching for something, but I don't have it, I feel like I'm dead, and it feels like I'm dead and I hate it, I hate it so much-" she was crying now. Tears were spilling from her eyes, dripping onto Toothless' pitch black fur, and sobs were starting to claw their way up her throat.
The ringing in her ears had gotten so loud she did not hear Hiccup come back. She did not see him standing in the doorframe, did not see his emotions spilling over and his hand flying up to his mouth to muffle his own sobs that escaped him. Slowly, as quietly as possible, he backed away and leaned against the wall, trying to collect himself.
The slow scraping of wheels on wood told her that Hiccup was back. Quickly, Astrid wiped her eyes and tried not to look like she'd been crying for the past five minutes, sheepishly glancing at the door, her chest tied into an aching knot.
Hiccup was not able to meet her eyes. She did not notice.
"Here we go," he murmured as Astrid slumped back into the wheelchair. "All set." He cleared his throat.
He was lingering too long, he knew that. He knew that Astrid knew. Still, he forced himself to let go of her and straightened his back, clearing his throat again. And Astrid simply could not help but scan the length of his body and wonder how he could look so thin but have the strength to not only pick her up but also carry her around like it was nothing. She wished she could remember how long it had been since he had started to play basketball regularily again.
She wondered if he himself even cared about his own appearance. Or how much he valued her opinion? Did that matter? Was that shallow of her? Also, how did his body look like in, say, perhaps dim candle light?
"Are you okay?"
Oh, God. "Yeah, sorry, I was just," she hesitated. "Thinking." Inappropriate thoughts about my husband whom I don't remember but have probably seen in very low lighting many times. Quickly, to try and stop her mind of going down this ally, she said, "So, about that housetour."
He had saved their bedroom for last. Astrid felt strange, seeing a room they so obviously shared together. The rest of the apartment had been fine, she could still pretend they were just rooms, but this one felt different. Clothes were strewn across the unmade bed, some of which she recognised as her own.
A couple of poleroids grazed the wall, some of them paler, others appeared to be fairly recent. Without exception they all showed either both their faces or shots of each other. On the other side of the room she could see the oriel window, fairy lights messily hung above with pillows and a fuzzy blanket haphazardly thrown across.
"I didn't really tidy up, I'm sorry," she heard Hiccup explain quietly. "Not since the ... accident. Matt said it could help, so I left everything as it was."
Astrid rolled closer to the bed, it was a strange sensation but it felt as if she was gravitating towards it. The duvet covers caught her eye immediately. They were red; it was the same pale, washed-out colour she remembered.
"Mornings are always kind of a hurry," Hiccup continued behind her, hands in the pockets of his jeans. "A ... routined hurry, if you will. An organised mess. We always make elaborate plans for the morning, but morning-you would sell Toothless if you could just sleep five more minutes, so ... you know. I'm no better, though. In the evening I firmly believe it'll be really quick and easy to get dressed for the day, but I always ignore I get, um," he blushed and was thankful she did not pay attention to his face. "distracted easily."
He closed his eyes, trying not to think of Astrid, skin dripping with morning sunlight, shuffling into the bathroom in one of his old shirts, desperately trying not to think about her soapy hands on his chest-
"We try to have breakfast together, it just doesn't always work out. Most days you grab something on your way to work. I've got to be at the company at half past nine, so I usually have an hour window where I can feed Toothless, air the rooms, tidy up, you know. All the fun stuff." He was rambling again. He felt himself do it, simply to chase the images out of his mind. Selfish, stupid thoughts he really shouldn't have right now.
Astrid had been quiet the whole time. Now consciously taking notice of her silence, Hiccup inched closer to see her stare at a picture in her hands.
It was one of the poleroids. It showed herself, standing in the middle of a doorway, carrying a large cardboard box that had the words 'our! bedroom' messily scribbled on it. Her hair tied up to a messy ponytail, she was grinning widely, squinting her eyes in laughter and facing the camera.
"Did you take this?" Astrid asked quietly, with an undertone Hiccup couldn't really put his finger on. He smiled softly and took a step closer.
"That's one of my favourites," he admitted.
"I look so happy." She set the picture aside.
He looked at her from the side, watched her lay it on the nightstand and stare at her hands she was folding in her lap.
In the evening, he cooked.
He was working fast and efficient but his hands were shaking ever so slightly. Hiccup hoped she wouldn't notice. They had made room for her wheelchair in the small kitchen since they'd decided that it would be a waste of energy to lift her out and back into the wheelchair anytime they ate.
He had not mentioned the fact they didn't have any coolpacks at home. They'd been avoiding these topics in general. He'd need to change her bandages. Help her shower. Drive her to the hospital for check-ups.
He also didn't really know how to approach these matters. It wasn't like he could just suddenly say, 'hey, time for a shower, let's get your clothes off!'
Of course, if she still had her memory this wouldn't even be up for discussion when she was usually the driving force about showering together. Normally Hiccup would shower in the evening so his leg would be able to shrink down over night. But sometimes he was too tired or forgot ... or showered a second time the next morning, Astrid's voice and hands clouding his mind too much for him to muster to care about a bit of a swollen leg.
Hiccup tried not to think about these kind of occasions (that happened more often than his leg would like); specifically, he tried to keep a naked, wet and laughing Astrid, her hands in his hair out of his head. He wanted to be blessed with that sight again. He wanted to hear her laugh like that again (or other noises his memory not-so-helpfully provided him with).
But the woman sitting at their kitchen table wasn't twenty-six anymore.
He wished she wasn't, but Astrid had been right earlier, in a way. It didn't really feel like she was his wife anymore. She was, essentially, a stranger, mainly because to her he was a stranger. And he hated it.
The young man stopped chopping and rested his trembling hands on the cutting board for a moment.
He had to help her find her way back. She just had to remember. But Hiccup couldn't just go around and continue trying to remind her of only his feelings like he had earlier - her words about feeling dead were stil ringing in his ears and everything else be damned, he would not make her feel that way ever again.
Hiccup felt her gaze burn on his back; quickly he resumed cutting the tomatoes.
"Am I a better cook now?"
The sudden sound of her voice made him jump. The knive fell on the floor. He turned around, his breath almost being knocked out of his lungs as his eyes fell on her. She sat in the wheelchair, her hands folded in her lap, smiling tentatively.
Returning her smile was like a reflex.
"Not really, to be honest," he admitted then, picking up the knife. "You like it, but you're still not good, that didn't really change. I like your mashed potatoes though, I think I developed a thing for those burnt black bits in it."
He grinned crookedly. Astrid's smile widened, making his heart flutter in his chest. After a moment of hesitation she asked, just loud enough to be heard above the low hissing of the oven, "Is that ... one of these you-things?"
"What do you mean?" He stepped closer.
Astrid shrugged. "You know ... like when you say something you regret and start to ramble. Or that thing you do with your shoulders when you talk."
"That thing?" he repeated, now grinning. Astrid held back her own grin and jerked her shoulders up and down, wobbling her arms.
"What" Hiccup laughed. "When - since - when have I ever done that with my arms?"
"You're doing it right now!" He laughter filled the kitchen and if Hiccup were to die right now, he'd die a happy man. He felt an overwhelming feeling of love and hope blossom up in his chest at the sound of her soft laughter. Finally.
Astrid calmed down and sensed his eyes on her, meeting his gaze quizically.
"What?"
"Nothing, it's ... good to hear you laugh," Hiccup explained softly and smiled. Astrid averted her eyes for a second, then she looked back up again and said, "You didn't answer my question."
He shrugged, smiling. "You didn't specify."
"Alright, that sort of ... crooked smile you make sometimes, is that one of these you-things?"
He couldn't help but laugh at that. "I guess, yeah. Or it's just a smile I have for you, I don't know."
He pretended he didn't notice the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. It could be a trick of the light, perhaps. The kitchen was pretty dim.
She looked down again. Assuming their conversation was over now, he turned around and resumed the salad.
"And are you always this flirty?"
Almost absent-mindedly he repeated, "Again, only with you." The oven peeped.
Not even registering what he was doing he took the steaming dish out of the oven and set it on the counter.
"Seems pretty far-fetched to me, to be honest," Astrid intoned conversationally. "I mean, you'd be the first man I meet to be faithful all the way."
"Hey," he pointed his spatula at her, a serious expression on his face. "I'm fiercely loyal."
She chuckled and by now he had seen the twinkle in her eyes and he realised she had been playing with him. Hiccup sighed but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Astrid looking at him, lost in thought.
"I figured you were. I guess ... you're the first person I meet who's in for the long haul."
Hiccup couldn't reply. The only thing circling his mind now was how desperately he hoped she'd let him.
The thought hit him while she was brushing her teeth. He'd almost said the exact same thing to her in the early stages of their relationship.
They'd had a fight - he couldn't even remember what it was about - and avoided each other the whole day, as far as that had been possible while sharing a flat.
In the end he'd found her crying on a kitchen chair.
Her sobs were echoing from the kitchen tiles. Hiccup's heart dropped and with it he sunk down on his knees in front of her.
"Hey, hey," he whispered softly, taking her hands in his and gently pulling them away from her face. When she looked at him her eyes were red and swollen. "Why're you crying?"
"I'm sorry, Hiccup, I'm so - so sorry."
"Hey, come on, it's okay, I'm sorry too," he murmured and quickly pulled her into his arms, her fingers desperately digging into the fabric of his jumper. "I didn't know you were this hurt, I'm sorry. Next time I'll-"
"It's not about that," she whispered into his chest.
"Then what is it?"
She stayed silent. His hands gently roamed her back. "C'mon, Astrid, you need to talk to me."
Astrid pressed her face into his chest. "I - I'm just so - you're the first person I wanna be serious with and - keep close, and I'm - s-so scared of losing you."
New tears started flowing from her eyes as Hiccup felt his whole being ache for her.
"Astrid," he said softly, leaning away and cupping her face in his hands.
She hiccuped on her own sobs and looked up at him. "What if one day you're fed up with me? Or - or we have a fight and you just pack up your things and g-go or find someone better than-" "Astrid. I'm not going to leave you over some stupid bagged coffee. And I firmly believe there is no one else for me than you. I'm in this for the long haul."
He smiled at her, his thumbs brushing her tears away.
"But what if you-"
"I mean this. Astrid, I promise you, whatever happens, I will not ever leave you on my free will."
She smiled a teary, tentative smile. "You'd be the first."
He wrapped her in his arms again.
"I know. But I'm also the first to get to hold you like this. So I think that kinda balances that out."
"I love you, kind of a lot," she mumbled into the wool of his jumper. Hiccup smiled and pressed a kiss on the crown of her head. "I love you, too."
He had helped her get ready for bed and now watched her brush her teeth absentmindedly, leaning against the doorframe. Astrid tried to act as if she hadn't noticed.
"I'll sleep on the sofa in the living room," he suddenly intoned and Astrid turned around. Part of her had known he wouldn't just go back to how it had been before - they both meant two different things. For Astrid, 'before' had been sleeping alone in her childhood room of that godforsaken town, and for him ... for him, 'before' had been sleeping next to her in a warm and intimate space. She felt shivers run down her spine at the thought of that but brushed it off.
"Yeah," she managed to get out. "Sure."
He smiled tentatively and watched her roll out of the bathroom, careful not to bump into the doorframe.
"Here," he piped up and quickly disappeared into their bedroom. He returned with a pen and a piece of paper and started scribbling something down on it. "This is my number. I'll leave my phone on," he explained as he carefully pushed her into the bedroom, halting in front of the bed. "You can call me whenever you need something."
Astrid stared down at the neat little numbers. 71-204-2624. Astrid's fingers felt tingly. She recognised the number, or at least she thought she did. It sounded familiar in her head, at least. So she nodded and uttered her thanks, nodding again as he asked whether she was ready to be lifted.
Hiccup breathed in when he lifted her and finally - finally, she smelled like herself again. Maybe his relief made his grip slip as he let her down - he stumbled forward and managed to catch himself just in time; his face inches away from hers. Their gazes collided; Astrid held her breath barely noticeably at the intensity of his gaze. Hiccup's breath was hot on her skin. He leaned in, only by an inch - she flinched back.
Mortified, Hiccup pulled back and straightened up, muttering apology after apology.
"It's alright," Astrid assured him and smiled hesitantly, waiting for her own heart to slow down.
"Do you - do you need anything else? I - got you water from downstairs and, um, in the drawer there are some tissues."
"I'm alright, thanks," she repeated and finally he stopped searching her gaze, his lips twitching into a tight smile.
"Okay," He hesitated. "Good night, Astrid."
"Good night," she whispered back and watched him make his way downstairs.
Her heart had calmed down. After a moment of consideration and to distract her thoughts from what had just happened she opened the drawer. Inside she found a couple of packs of tissues, lotion, a neat, little black calendar, some wrapped cough drops, and - oh, God. She pulled her hand back, feeling yet again heat crawl up her cheeks. Condoms.
Oh no. Anything, anything but this. I am not going there. Thank you but no thank you, she thought and vigorously closed the drawer shut.
Carefully as to not disturb her leg too much, she scooted down and lay back into the cushions. This was definitely nicer than the hospital bed with its stiff pillows and sterile bedding.
This is nice, she thought as she breathed in and snuggled into the warmth. The cushion smelled sort of soapy and ... there it was. A ghost of Hiccup's aftershave.
It made up a comforting scent.
But it also made her thoughts return to Hiccup, which she had been trying to avoid. He had looked like he wanted to kiss her. She wondered what would have happened if he had.
Astrid screwed her eyes shut and desperately tried to think of anything else than Hiccup's lips on her own.
Downstairs, Toothless had settled on his stomach and was purring contently, Hiccup's fingers absentmindedly running through his fur.
"I messed up, Toothless," he whispered into the darkness. "First I tell her I love her just like that, then I hold her for way too long, and now I'm trying to kiss her?" He rubbed his eyes in frustration and groaned. "I'll be lucky if she even looks me in the eyes tomorrow."
Toothless stayed silent.
"Yeah, you're right, it's not like anything can make this even worse," he added sarcastically, dragging his hands away from his face. Except maybe - oh no. He stopped, mid-motion. He'd dropped her on the left side of the bed. His side. With his drawer.
Shit. The condoms.
"Well, now it definitely can't get any worse."
