“Careful, honey. Don’t get up too fast.”

You don’t have the faintest clue what’s going on, or who’s speaking to you. You do, however, know that whoever it is that’s speaking to you has the most wonderfully gentle voice you’ve ever heard. And when you open your eyes, you also discover that he is dangerously handsome. Well, maybe not dangerous; his features are soft and his cheeks slightly chubby, like they’re calling out for you to poke and pepper kisses on, and his eyes are warm and the colour of honey.

What isn’t pleasant, however, is the bright white light beaming down on you, and the smell of antiseptic.

“W-where..what am i..?” You try to speak, but your words are muffled, something lodged in your mouth, keeping your words slurred. Not only that, but your jaw feels like…well, it feels like nothing. Are you drooling? You can’t tell.

“Oh, no, no. Be careful, don’t speak too much.” The voice advises, a hand on your shoulder urging you back down onto the firm mattress. The hand, despite your lack of knowledge on who it is, causes you to feel warm and gooey, a flush of warmth in your stomach. You want to kiss him, you realise. Why, you didn’t know. You didn’t know this man, and you’d never been quite sure about moustaches. Would it make your upper lip itch if you pressed your lips to his? Maybe you should try it out, for science.

But when you lean up, lips puckered quite unattractively, the man chuckles, and yet again pushes you back down flat. “Not yet, dear. You just had surgery. Your mouth needs to heal. Do you taste the blood? Do you remember?”