Her hand found his as his expression changed. She had been here for years, never had she had a place of her own so she couldn’t sympathize. But she was here all the same until he would pull away. Kyrie would linger in the corridor until she found her way into the kitchen.
“AC,” she repeated with a nod. She could respect that. She found he ready to the seats at the counter that warranted the open floor plan which would separate the rooms. She watched him cook, impressed.
His hands worked and she was so impressed. Her eyes began to widen as his wounds healed. “Your — your face — it’s healing!”