It's funny. By now, I've known Blue for years. I know how to maneuver around her, her physical boundaries, where not to push. I've just never applied them like this and now it all feels new where it should be familiar. She hugs me and I hug her back gently.

I nod when Blue goes to the bathroom and let go of her hand. "There's also a first aid kit in there if you want it." A well-stocked one too, given who I am and who I entertain, more often than not. I say 'want' and not 'need' because it's obvious she does. For all that she's upright and coherent, I can't deny being worried about her. I don't want to overdo it and get in her way except for the fact that I do.

I make tea, listening to the water running. Unhelpfully, my mind fills up with the thought that Blue is in my bathroom and undressed and I struggle to crush the idea down. Even if we're at that point, she's still injured and upset. Not the time.