Breathing heavily, I will the world to stop spinning before registering the soft click of footsteps and then a pair of gentle hands in my hair. Nadir gathers it up, pulling it away from my face as I vomit again, retching over and over. I’m not sure how long it takes, but he crouches behind me, never letting go of my hair and rubbing my back as another wave of nausea hits, followed by another.
OH MY GOD COULD HE GET ANYMORE HOT
