You fidgeted uncomfortably as you sat in the passenger seat, your boyfriend driving you home from the hospital. A temporary cast was tight around your arm, the next six weeks looking as though they would drag on for an eternity.

“This ,” you mumbled, earning a sympathetic chuckle from your boyfriend. You had been reckless, trying to climb the tree that stood tauntingly next to your apartment. A balloon had wedged itself between the tangled branches, and you fell trying to reach for it while balanced on a flimsy limb.

“I can’t believe you went through all of this for a stupid balloon.” You glared at him, insulted by his frustration.

“I climb that tree all the time! I don’t see why this time is any different.” Shaking his head, your boyfriend let out an exasperated sigh.

“Just promise me you’ll be more careful next time? I understand that it’s just your arm, but please try to avoid breaking your neck?”

“No need for sarcasm,” you said, laughing lightly. He turned to look at you while stopped at a light.

“I’m serious though. No more tree climbing, please?” You nodded reluctantly, turning to stare out the window and pout at all of the vegetation you were no longer permitted to explore.

When you arrived back at your apartment, you fumbled with the seatbelt lock and swore under your breath. Your boyfriend reached across you to release it and you walked back to the house with an irritated grimace. As you walked past the tree, you shook your fist jokingly.

“Curse you tree! At least have the decency to break the arm I don’t write with next time.” Your boyfriend laughed but offered a stern gaze.

“Next time?” You grumbled, walking back to the apartment with embarrassment in your stride. Wandering into the bathroom, you looked in the mirror with a frown. Why hadn’t anyone told you how awful your hair looked? You grabbed a hairbrush from the countertop, flinching when you tried to curl your finger around its handle. You called out your boyfriend’s name with a reluctant sigh, and he wandered quickly into the bathroom with an inquisitive look on his face.

“Yes?”

“Can you help me brush my hair? I can’t.” He laughed teasingly at your sulky expression, but took the brush gently in his hands. Holding your hair carefully, he combed through the tangles taking the utmost care not to pull at your scalp. When he finished he patted your head twice, smoothing it beneath his smooth palm.

“Thanks,” you said, offering him a light kiss on the cheek. He smiled back, his teeth bright in the fluorescent light of the bathroom.

“Sure! If you need anything else, let me know. It’s the least I can do.” You grinned.

“You could chop down that stupid tree?” He laughed, his eyes drawing shut with the curve of his smile.

“I don’t think your landlord would be very happy about that.” After a few minutes, your boyfriend wandered back to where you were sitting. “Do you want to go to dinner? I have no schedules or anything tonight!” Excited, you jumped up, turning to your bedroom to get ready. Putting on your makeup with one hand was a challenge, but you weren’t about to ask your boyfriend’s help after the last time he wanted to do that for you. After struggling with mascara and swearing at your eyeliner, you were finally ready to go.

“You ready?” he asked, car keys in hand.

“Yeah, just let me get my shoes on.” You walked to the closet, groaning loudly when you remembered the state of your arm. “No! Ugh!” Your boyfriend walked over and helped you sit down.

“Hey, don’t get frustrated. I can do this for you.” You sighed as he slipped your favorite sneakers over your socks, tying them tightly. He made sure to double knot them, joking about your clumsiness when you insisted it wasn’t necessary.

Your boyfriend drove you downtown, to one of your favorite restaurants in the city. Dinner was fun, albeit a challenge for you. Holding chopsticks was next to impossible, refusing in your stubbornness to ask for a fork. Your boyfriend found this amusing, and took the struggle as an opportunity to feed you dinner.

As you started driving home together, you sighed again out the dark windows, your breath casting a hazy fog on the tinted glass.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shower with this stupid thing.” Your boyfriend turned to look at you, a devilish grin on his face.

“I can help with that.”