You had bitten Simon as he tried to drag you to the hospital, all you remember were his loud, British shouts and his scolding before you passed out.

Now awake and high on morphine, you glare at him, drool dribbling down your chin.

Simon was leaning against the wall, tilting his head as a slight grin tugged at his lips. “You look stunning.” He teased, mocking your dishevelled appearance, your frizzy hair and tired expression.

Simon continued, “they must’ve given you your rabies shots.”