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His nose scrunches, apologetically. “This is going to sting.”
I close my eyes, bracing for pain. Sean lightly dabs at the cut and I wince.
He’s right—it stings—a lot. I instinctively throw my hands up to grab onto something. My hands land on his waist, trying to push him away from me.
“Sorry, you alright?” he asks, bracing at my touch.
“Just hurts,” I say, his torso hard beneath my fingertips.
“You can let go of me now,” he whispers. “The bad part is over. I just have to put a bandage on for you. Do you have a headache at all?”
I slowly drop my hands as he reaches over for the large band-aid.
“No. I don’t think I’m concussed or anything.”
He focuses closely on opening the bandage, but sets it down beside me.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” He lifts his hand in a fist.
“None, smart ass.”
“Very good. Is your memory fine? Nothing lost up there?” He taps my temple, the opposite side of where my cut rests.
“Unfortunately not.”
His hand falls. “Hmm,” he mumbles.
“I’m sorry, Sean.”
“It was the snow, not you. It could have happened to anyone.”
“No, I mean—I’m sorry for earlier. I overreacted.”
He places the bandage gently on my head, careful not to make eye contact as he speaks.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I was a jerk.”
His eyes focus on my forehead, then down at my lips. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, his stubble is starting to appear.
“It’s just—after ten years of wanting you…of waiting for our moment…I can’t help but feel the need to protect what we have.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Sean. You and me…” I grab the hand he has rested on the counter and place it onto my lap. “This is real.”
I lean forward, so our faces are just a couple of inches apart.
He lifts his other hand, tracing his fingertips over the small scar I have on my right cheek. Where my childhood dog bit me when I was seven.
“I remember every scar,” he mumbles, then slides his fingers over the bridge of my nose and across my cheekbone.“Every freckle,” he whispers.
His hand finds its way into my hair, and he gently twists the ends. “Every hair on your head…I remember all of you.”
The soft hum of the bathroom fan fills the room as we stay locked in one another’s eyes.
With my legs still dangling off the edge of the counter, I slide toward him, almost falling off. My heart races as I feel the warmth of his body closer to mine.
His hands travel down to my side, a gentle smile playing on his lips.
“I don’t think any amount of time could have made me forget the way you look at me,” I whisper.
