Grayson yawns and gets up from the couch. He has slept on some truly terrible surfaces before, but Jude's couch wins the contest hands down. It was incredibly square and the cushions had very little give. It was like sitting on an upholstered brick. He cracks his neck and stands.
The two had moved into a comfortable routine over the last few days. Jude had gotten better at using his left hand for things, but Grayson was adamant that he not push himself too far.
Jude, stubborn as always, was more focused on making sure that Grayson was comfortable than his own healing. When Grayson joked about the couch, Jude spent twenty minutes scrolling through a furniture store's website, asking his opinions on every couch he saw over five thousand, and demanding that he would get it delivered today.