“What are you doing?” I grumble as I wipe at my watery eyes, no doubt smudged with mascara. “Taking care of you,” he replies without even looking my way. His tone says that I just asked him a stupid question. “That’s fine. I can take care of myself.” “I know you can, but you don’t have to because I’m here to help.”
"you came?" "you called" trope is aliiiive and well in this eaton boy
