She pulls my hand away from my head. “Stop touching it, you’re gonna make it worse.” She moves my bangs to the side. “Let me look.”
“Stop moving.” She studies the bump closely for a moment and then turns my head sideways. “Get in the light so I can see it better.”
I sigh again, louder this time. “You’re so bossy.”
“Don’t be such a baby. You know you love me.”
“Wow,” she says.
Uh-oh. It must be worse than I thought. “What? What is it?” I ask.
“Your gray hair really shows in this light.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, dear.”
“Are you done examining me yet, doctor? Can we be done with this?”
“Just hold still.” She stands up on the tips of her toes to get a better look, pressing her chest against mine and practically knocking me over. I smile and wrap one arm around her for support. I keep her held there, tight against me, enjoying the closeness. I study her face lovingly. My eyes fall upon her lips and stay there.
“It’s all swollen,” she says.
I lean into her, suddenly unable to resist the urge to kiss her.
“Does it hurt when I touch it?” She presses her finger against the wound.
I feel a sharp sting and flinch.
“Yes, it does,” I say, annoyed. I rub my forehead gently to soothe it.
She lowers her hands and takes a step back, her worry crease forming between her eyes, looking at me like she’s still mulling the situation over in her head. “Well, no wonder you have a headache.”
“You did connect the two, right?”
“Just checking. Never can tell with you.”
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