For a moment, Irene was at a loss for words. She knew she wasn't supposed to be there, and Ingrid had expressed that he might not like to wake up to people hawking over him.
However, his eyes searched her face for an answer, and she stared up at him in much of the same way.
For the first time, it was more evident that, beyond his sickly complexion, it also seemed that he had lost a bit of weight.
In her worry, Irene reached towards him as well, wondering if she could gently touch him the way he had touched her. But her daringness caused him to recede. He pulled his hand away, and his gaze left her face.
"I don't want you to see me like this," he admitted.
She watched as he sank into the bed again and placed a hand on his head. He seemed to be hurting badly. She felt a pang in her heart at that.
