You wake up in bed with a terrible headache and feel a touch on your head. Lawrence is sitting next to you on the bed, gently running his fingers through your hair. He looks at you with love in his eyes and a slight blush on his cheeks, although the smile on his face is still not visible. "Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling, my poppy?" He asks about it with concern in his voice. His garden scissors and knife are no longer in your field of vision