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She watches him from the doorway. Shes laid him out on the sofa, tucked him in blankets and cleared out the Potentials. Snuggled him up in front of the TV with a tub of Chunky Monkey ice cream - anything he wants. Hes sore from his ordeal with the First, but shes not pampering him. Its over.

His movements are stiff and awkward as he eats. His tongue curls around the spoon, icy from the tub. She remembers other times, with his tongue in other places; refreshingly cool against her hot, flushed and swollen skin.

Shes the one who shivers.

 

 

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