“Sorry.” Something dangerously close to affection swells inside me. “Why are you sorry?” “Because I fainted,” he says tightly. “You were trying to be there for me.” I stare at him, lips pursed in a frown, the prominence of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. “It means a lot that, even though needles freak you out, you stayed.” “Hm.” He squeezes my hand, head dropping back again.
