When we got home—about half an hour later—I carried my little Suki over to the living room and set her on the couch.
While she waited patiently, I brought over some first aide equipment and knelt by her feet.
She watched me curiously when I untied her laces and pulled off her shoe.
She only winced slightly, and I just pulled off her socks with more gentleness, hoping to cause her no pain.
After her footwear was removed, I returned to gazing down at her ankle. “It doesn’t look so bad now. I think if I wrap it up and you rest for the night, it should be better tomorrow. And by better, I mean you should be able to walk on it—with the wrap, of course.”
She just nodded.
I hummed a song I made up and pulled out the wrap from the first aid kit, immediately getting to wrapping her foot up.
Suki just stared at me the whole time, but after I was halfway done, she suddenly started playing with my hair.
I gazed up then. “Touchy tonight, are we?”
She just ran her fingers on my scalp, making something warm wash over me. “It’s just so wavy… and soft.”
I shook my head in amusement and let her, finishing with the wrap.
After I finished, she pulled her hands away, and I lifted her again, carrying her to her room.
“I will bring you supper in your room,” I told her when I kicked her door closed. “And then after that, you shall sleep.”
She nodded when I laid her in bed, and she propped herself up and gazed over at me. “What’s for supper?”
I just smiled. “You’ll see. I’ll bring it to you now.”
I left the room and walked downstairs, immediately catching a plate of her dinner and putting a metal covering over it.
I held it like a waiter and walked back upstairs.
She gazed up at me from the bed, and I just caught a small tray that was propped up against the wall here and set it on her lap.
“I decided to get creative today,” I said then, smirking. “And made coq au vin. A very famous French dish made with slow cooked chicken and wine flavors. Served on the side with freshly baked garlic bread, and a cup of steamed rice. It’s been slow cooking all day,” I told her then, lashes lowering, “I hope you enjoy, my Angel.”
She stared down at it, eyes sparkling.
“Bon appetite,” I said then, smirking.
She caught the fork and dipped it into the chicken, immediately taking a bite.
Her cheeks warmed then, and her lashes lowered.
“Is it to your liking?” I asked her.
She nodded. “Yes.”
I smiled in satisfaction and stood by her bedside as she ate the rest.
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