Made

It was a boring three months before they called to tell him that they felt she was ready to be released. He did things, of course, photo shoots and interviews and the occasional premier, but it felt odd without her to come home to. Or rather, to dread coming home to.

Laila refused his offer to drive up to get her, saying that she would take the train instead. She was quite insistent, figuring that a six hour drive wouldn't be worth it, and an £8 train trip would be. He couldn't argue with that logic, but would have preferred to pick her up on his own.

He waited for her at Euston anyway, getting there an hour before she was due to arrive just to pace. A few fans came over to say hello, but not that many people recognized him, which was for the best. His head was all over the place. He was surprisingly nervous, as though she would be a completely different person, and he wouldn't know how to interact with her. He also debated buying flowers. It was a weird hour.

Turned out, he was waiting in the wrong direction, facing the entrance for the underground instead of where the trains were coming out from. Laila snuck up behind him, standing next to him for at least two minutes before he glanced down to look at his phone and noticed her beside him.

She looked good, certainly much brighter than when he'd dropped her off. Her hair had grown slightly longer, curling beneath her ears, and she looked like she fit into her clothes instead of them hanging off of her. He'd told them about her troubles eating, and was happy to see that they paid attention.

"I think you need glasses, old man," she said. He smiled involuntarily and wrapped her into a hug.

Laila was beaming at him when he pulled away, and he couldn't help but run his fingers through her hair.

"I missed you," he blurted out. He was usually more suave than this, but felt like his instincts were going haywire. Luckily, Laila didn't seem to pay too much attention to him. "Are you hungry?"

She shook her head. "I want to go to sleep," she said. "I stayed up too late last night being excited."

He laughed at her, but led her towards the car park. The journey was only twenty minutes driving, which he thought was easier than taking the tube. Laila was asleep within five minutes, leaving him to take in both her and her duffle bag, which had seemingly grown heavier. He was surprised to find that he didn't mind much at all.

While she slept, he made dinner. Nothing fancy, just some pasta. She finally came downstairs at 8, wearing a large black t-shirt and the shortest shorts he had ever seen. He looked, he was just a man after all, but in a way that made it seem like he wasn't looking. Laila didn't seem to mind either way.

They watched a movie during dinner, some old American comedy thing Laila chose. He didn't like it, but it was nice to see her smile and laugh. She even ate a whole bowl of pasta.

"You look better," he said while they were sprawled out on different ends of the long couch.

"I should hope so," she replied. She was eating pistachios, which she apparently had stored in her duffle bag. She'd offered him some, but he declined. Green nuts were just suspicious.

Laila fell asleep on the couch a few hours later, and he succumbed to sleep beside her only an hour after her. It was a good day.