Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

pants Lilia had bought me because they looked "comfy." They were, but they also clung to my body and I wasn't comfortable wearing them outside my room. Hopefully they would stay on Alan— hopefully, for my peace of mind, not as snugly as they fit on me.
    Back downstairs, I handed the clothes around the door then went to make up the sofa. Lilia was still sorting in the guest room and all over the bed.
    The sofa done, I went to make some chamomile tea, and when Alan came out I had tea, cookies, and Tylenol for him.
    "What is this, Lifestyles of the Rich and Fabulous?"
    "It's 'my friend had a rough night' night." I was sitting on a footstool; I pointed him at the chair. "Let me see you for a minute."
    "Oh, I get it. You're in film school because you got bored with med school."
    "I train in first aid every summer. My dad was a cop, and basic preparedness meant a lot to him."
    "Seriously? Lukas and Daddy bonding over bodies?"
    "Actually," I took a firm grip on my temper, "he died twelve years ago. He was called to a domestic dispute and when he tried to arrest the husband the wife stabbed him."
    "Shit." Alan sat down. "Sorry, Lukas."
    "You didn't know." I took his face in my hands, checked his ears and his eyes for discharge. Without the makeup he looked a lot younger. Less guarded, and more appealing. The shirt brought out the blue in his eyes, but one was swelling shut and I had to again fight off the urge to head back into town with my anti-theft club. "You jump to a lot of conclusions about me," I went on, complaining when I should shut up. "It'd be nice sometimes if you just gave me a break." I brought the light close to watch his pupils contract.
    "It's your own fault," Alan grumbled. "You're so goddamned… together. It's disgusting."
    "That was Mallory's excuse for Saturday."
    "See? If you can incite Mallory to malicious mischief…"
    "Remind me to screw up sometime." No worrying symptoms, and I was out of excuses to touch him. "Is your neck stiff?" I asked. "Any vision changes?"
    "Neither, boss-man. I'm tired as hell, though, and Twiggy is eying my cookies."
    "How is the headache?" I asked, releasing him. "The same? Better?"
    "A little better, Doctor Lukas." He moved to the couch and reached for the cookies. "And about to get better still. If you want any of these, grab now."
    "The cookies are all yours. Try to sleep; I'll wake you in an hour."
    "Oh goodie."
    I stood and called the dogs. "Come on, guys. You can sleep on the porch."
    "Lukas, you can't put them out because of me."
    "It's not cold. They'll be fine."
    "Don't." He looked at the three of them. "I mean, they won't jump on me or anything, right? I don't mind them when they're calm."
    "No, they'll just go back to sleep. Javert snores."
    "For all I know, so do I."
    "Good night, Alan."
    "Night."
    I went back upstairs and got a quick shower, set the alarm on my phone and went to bed. Only then did I realize it was completely useless. My body was exhausted. I felt like if I wanted to get up, I couldn't— like if I tried to lift my arm, it wouldn't move. My mind, however, was still humming with energy.
    I'd somewhat gotten used to lusting after Alan. It still startled me when it hit, but I tried to plan for it and work around it and it was— well, okay. Tonight…
    When I was little and sad that my dad had to go to work, he'd get down on his knee and tell me I had to be strong— that I had to look after my mother while he was gone, and later my baby brother Will. Dad had to go protect people, and I had to do the same till he came home. He hadn't told me that the last time he left, but I remembered anyway. In the seventh grade when I fought a kid who had repeatedly bullied a cross-eyed girl to tears, Mom had supported the school and not fought the suspension. On the way home though, she bought me a new videogame. Despite working full-time and then some, she dropped off my homework and picked up new work every day, and served me ice cream every night.
    So my whole history went towards making me protective. I got that. The part I didn't understand was how I was still so furious that if I let the footage play in my mind of those bastards attacking Alan, I would get up and go looking for them. Still. Hours later and utterly exhausted, I still had enough rage to go do that.
    Protectiveness was built into my bones. Vengeance wasn't.
    It's not easy to make me angry. It's not easy to keep me angry. I had to face the fact that this situation held more than I wanted