Pizza and Chicken
Click.

The door opened and closed.

It was Dakota's apartment, and that afternoon Dakota had been allowed to return home with outpatient care.

Arriving in Dakota's room.

"Easy, come here," Sam said, extending his arm around Dakota's shoulder. Dakota glanced at the young man for a moment.

"Sam, what are you doing?"

Sam frowned.

"What else? Helping you get from this chair to your bed. What did you think I was doing?" he asked, still in the same position.

Dakota bit his lip; he really did need Sam's help to get to his bed. His legs were still very weak, he couldn’t even stand. Dakota wrapped his arms around Sam's neck while his friend lifted him from the wheelchair to the bed.

"Come on, lucky for you that you’re skinny, Dax, you more like a skeleton now. After this, you need to eat a lot; I’ll cook something delicious every day."

"Your cooking isn’t that great, Sam, don’t even try," Dakota replied.

Sam pouted.

"Come on, you can still eat, right? It’s not that bad."

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