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THEN.
"- I did what I had to do."
"You had to punch a squirrel in the face?"
Chase bit back a wince, leaning back against the patchwork-covered cushion that Trudi had fashioned whilst learning to adapt with limited vision. She was beside him on the tattered couch, dabbing at his split knuckles with a moonshine-soaked cloth.
It was supposed to be a date - a tryst, really. It had been a month since they'd seen each other and the longing was almost insurmountable for Trudi. She didn't know it was possible to miss someone so incredibly annoying with every fibre of her being.
Chase - Being Chase, Trudi supposed - decided to throw his fist at a squirrel and sliced open his knuckles on the rodent's sharp teeth, and now what was supposed to be them making the most of their time together, was her cleaning up his wounded hand.
"Hey, those pecans are for our breakfast." He gestured to the brown paper bag resting on the chipped coffee table. "I have no regrets, and if I see it again-" He yanked his hand out of her grasp to demonstrate what was supposed to be a deadly neck snap but actually looked like an imitation of a bird with broken wings. "OW!"
Trudi raised her brows in amusement.
Her idiot boyfriend had slammed his split knuckles against his palm, reopening the wound she'd only just got to stop bleeding.
"You're an idiot."
"Iam- Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay, actually, the evidence supports that claim this time."
With another chorus of 'OW!' permeating the dusty cabin, Trudi took his hand into her own and resumed her cleaning of his wounds. He writhed around and hissed with pain - an exaggeration, if you asked her - until she was finally done, and then he flopped down dramatically, resting his head on the arm of the couch and his filthy sneakers in her lap.
Trudi blew out a reluctant sigh, accepting his irritating position. Really, she was just glad to be within his proximity, even if his dirty shoes were staining her jeans. "How did your gardening go?"
Chase pursed his lips, a mischievous twinkle gleaming in his eyes. "Well, apparently, I don't have green fingers."
"No?" Trudi tilted her head. "What did you do? And don't say nothin', because. . . It's you, you did something."
