Doom POV
It hurt to pick Tracey up and carry her to our room.
Our room. I like the sound of that.
It pulled on my stitches, but I wanted her in my arms. She didn't squirm, gave me a sort of hug, resting her head on my chest, right on my stitches, I had there, that pain where she rested her head, a reminder that I was alive because of her bravery and quick thinking.
I pushed that thought aside and got back to where I was headed. This choice meant more to me than I thought it would, and it was something to think about later.
BUT, SHE chose ME! Screamed in my head.
Said yes to moving into my room.
Whoop Whoop.
Yeah, not leaving my head just yet. I still can't believe it.
Then to take a nap, yeah, didn't expect that.
Bed nap ever.
Tempest, the ever-helpful woman, personally pack
