Ziz opened his eyes to the worst headache of his life.
He was lying on his back staring at a familiar ceiling and underneath blankets he knew all too well.
Movement prompted him to sit up, and he came face to face with the one who brought him here.
"You were hurt pretty badly, you know? If I knew things were going to be that bad, I would have asked you to stay back with some of the others."
Yemaja was dressed and looked as if she were about to leave the house.
Ziz sat up with a forced smile.
"Couldn't just sit on my ass while everyone was out there trying their best. It would've been a shame to deprive others of the sight of me looking victorious."
Yemaja raised a brow. "And how did that work out for you?"
"Great... till Michael showed up. Smug prick had no respect for the most beautiful of his old man's creations..."
Yemaja giggled, but only because she found her boyfriend's shamelessness to be a natural talent by this point.
