Throw Up

Axe quickly pulled his hand back and gave me an unaccepting look. "You want revenge on me for almost cutting off your fingers that time?" he asked pretending to be angry.

I quickly shook my head and pulled my lips together to curl into a smile. "I know what you want, Axe. You're sick, don't mess with me. I won't let you touch me."

I started to lower my body from his lap. Axe was sick, he couldn't hold the weight of my body on his thighs for too long. My job wasn't done yet either, I hadn't cleaned his body even though I had wet wipes ready.

"What do you want?

Axe gasped at the movement of my hand that pulled his hand quickly. I didn't answer him because what I did next was to trace along his arm with the wet tissue.

Just imagine, six days he'd been downstairs waiting for me, six days he hadn't touched water to wash his hands.

"How can you stand not showering," I muttered half-mockingly. I continued to wash Axe's body until it ended at the crook of his neck. I