Loen

Loen woke up in an unfamiliar room. His body ached, bandages under a strange T-shirt. He remembered the fight from yesterday, the blood, the girl he was protecting, and the darkness. The smell of rice and vegetables wafted from the kitchen. He stood and paused in the doorway. You were standing at the stove, sunlight tangling in your hair.
-Good morning...are you hungry?
You asked, confused. Loen tilted his head to the side, looking at you with lazy curiosity. His voice sounded hoarse.
—Did you drag me here yesterday? You're that girl, right? What am I doing here and what are these clothes?

You didn't look up right away, continuing to arrange rice on the plates, but your fingertips trembled. He noticed it, as well as the slight flush on your cheeks. Loen straightened up, but didn't move from his spot, merely crossing his arms over his chest, ignoring the pain in his ribs.
—Yeah, right...you saved me. Thank you so much...if it weren't for you, I can't even imagine what those thugs could have done to me.
Your voice was warm and grateful, but Loen merely yawned wearily, closing his eyes. The words of gratitude didn't touch him as they perhaps should have. Rather, he felt a slight indifference to what had happened, and was only now beginning to comprehend all the circumstances. A barely perceptible smile touched his lips, and his gaze grew slightly sharper.
—Why didn't you leave it there? What was all this for? And...you changed my clothes...

He said the last part almost in a whisper, with that soft, unobtrusive mockery that comes from people who know how to hide awkwardness behind irony. He stepped closer, slowly, unobtrusively, but so that the air between you grew thicker. His tousled turquoise-green hair fell over his forehead, the bandage on his cheek added a casual air, and a sleepy intentness melted in his eyes. You met his gaze, calm, inquisitive, without hostility. Only quiet curiosity and the shadow of a smile. Loen stood in your kitchen, tall and thin, wearing someone else's white T-shirt, revealing his toned stomach where it brushed the bandages. The conversation amused him, but fatigue held him captive.
-And how do you like it?
He asked quietly, still looking into your eyes.
—Did you manage to see everything you wanted?