Kee sat on the low stool pulled right up to the side of the infirmary bed, close enough that his knee brushed the white sheet.
Mee lay propped slightly against the pillows, her long brown hair fanned out in a messy halo.
The room smelled faintly of healing salve, antiseptic, and the lingering lavender from Nurse Sera's uniform.
Kee had shrugged off his crimson-and-gold blazer and draped it gently over her chest like a blanket.
The heavy fabric settled over her full C-cup breasts, covering the exposed cleavage.
Now his larger hand completely enveloped hers. He traced slow, feather-light circles over her knuckles with his thumb—over the fresh gauze taped across her burned fingers. Her skin felt impossibly soft beneath the bandages, warm and alive.
"Damn…" he murmured, voice low, almost awed. "Your hand is really soft. This might be the longest I've ever held it."
