Chapter 969 Injured Leg?

Our gazes met briefly before he looked away, flustered. He clutched a damp towel. He must have been about to dry his hair. I moved closer, and he tensed but did not pull away. I took the towel from his hands. When our eyes met again, I offered, "Let me help you with your hair." "No..." he protested weakly. "It'll dry fast, and with the brisk air, you don't want to catch a cold," I said, not waiting for his consent before starting to pat his hair dry. I could feel his unease, and my heart ached for him. The pride he once carried had been replaced by a shyness that seemed foreign on him. The room fell silent, save for the sound of our breathing. I noticed his hands, still gripping each other tightly. I tried to break the tension. "What are you in the mood to eat later?" He did not answer and just held his hands tighter, lost for words. I pressed on, "Astoria suggested we could have a barbecue for dinner. It'll warm us up on this cold night." The room was silent for what felt like