She'd told him that this time she was, indeed, going to stick around - and she did. He didn't necessarily see or hear her, but she was there
( Read more... )
He opened his eyes for, coming to wakefulness for no reason he could discern. Except that she was there. Staring at him.
"You came back," he said, and even he wasn't sure what that note in his voice was. Except uncertainty. It bothered him. A lot of things about her bothered him. "Didn't think you would."
"Of course I came." Her lips quirked up and she added, "in a way, I'm here just about all of the time, watching. Just wanted to make sure you wanted to be seeing me too."
She slipped easily from the windowsill and crossed the few steps to his bed, lowering herself to a stool by the bedside at a height to make it easy for him to look at her if he wanted. Kissing his forehead lightly on the way. "Are you in much pain now?" The effect of medications came and went... besides, it was polite to ask?
That wasn't as comforting as perhaps it was supposed to be.
The kiss, though, the gestures. It was all uncomfortably comforting, soothing in the kind of unusual and unnerving way that made it all jumble up against itself in his head.
"Not right now," he said, cautious, guarded... and a little vulnerable. He was, of course, in some pain, or rather, he ached. But it wasn't bad.
It hadn't been meant to be comforting, that. It had been meant to be truthful. She didn't underestimate his intelligence so much as to try to hide some things. He'd guess or learn eventually, and he'd been damaged enough by lies and omissions.
"That is good. I... have seen too many people get hurt, and my gifts lie not in the area of healing at all. I'm sorry." That she couldn't wave her fingers and make it go away.
He didn't understand her, he truly didn't. He didn't understand why this mattered. Why she was sorry. "Why?"
Clover, at least, he understod; she was a woman of pretty simple desires. Kind of like him. She wanted simple things from him, and if he was in a mood, he gave them to her. Most other people, yeah, he could understand. He was a mystery. People liked to poke. This woman-shaped creature... no clue. It bothered him, a little.
(Not half so much as his own reactions to her bothered him, though.)
The question actually amused her (but then, sometimes she was easily amused). "You mean to say that you are aware that you have the attention of a goddess, and you don't think she should just wave her hand and make you well again? Instead of this... lying around and being stationary and sometimes medicated?"
No, he wasn't the first one to ever not just expect that kind of thing of her. However, with his way of indeed taking what he could... Well. It was a surprise too small to be disliked.
Besides, she wanted simple things of him too. It's just that getting to them was complicated.
He snorted at that. "Plenty of gods all around the world can't just wave their hands and make things how they want them to be." He wasn't stupid or ignorant. He'd picked up a lot of mythology over the years. Granted, he didn't know what kind of Goddess she was. But.
This wasn't simple. Nothing about her was simple. Love was never simple with him; it was something that usually didn't exist, for him. He didn't want it to. It would mess things up in so many ways.
"True. Some things, I can make better, sing better." Like taking the pain away, as she had. "Still, some I can't." Her hand covered his much larger one where it was lying on the bed, fingers tightening a little. "I could, however, smuggle in things you might find interesting that you can still manage. Non-hospital food? Something to do with your hands, if you want? Or I can stay around and talk when you're on your own and can't sleep or something."
How would he know that it couldn't be simple if he's never had it since a very, very long time ago? And perhaps some things it would mess up. And others, it would straighten out, smoothing out tensions that pulled at him without his being able to ease them.
He laughed. It hurt, and he winced shortly after, but he laughed, and with genuine delight. "Girl, if you could get me some kinda meal that wasn't born in this hospital I would love you all you want." He's exaggerating, of course. And it even makes him a little uncomfortable to say, but it's like Mad Libs. Plug in whatever value of whatever the other person wanted, give it to them in exchange for something he wants. And right now, he really wants something that wasn't hospital food.
"Oh, I know you will." This, the tone of voice for it, was probably going to go straight in the 'disturbing' things of what she said, but she didn't quite notice that bit. "I can get something right now, though. Anything in particular? Dessert? Sandwich?" Her eyebrows twitched up playfully. "World cuisine? Fancy Indian spiced lamb?"
Well. Nobody could accuse her of not being enthusiastic when she wanted to...
"Steak." Oh, he'd kill for a steak. Not that he didn't note what she said, but like all things he didn't want to deal with, he pushed it out of his mind. "Big juicy steak. Fries or something. Real food, not this pansy-ass mushy crap."
"Steak then. I will come back soon." She actually didn't like vanishing and appearing before people. Or changing form. Although either could be done with the people's backs turned - she was just far from sure he'd keep his face turned away, if he even agreed to it in the first place.
That said, she was back not long after she walked out the door. With a warm, juicy venison steak (it wouldn't even occur to her to try to find a pork one) and fried potatoes - not diner fries, more of a home-made variety. Golden, and fried with herbs, and also still steaming.
She settled them beside him and smirked. "There. How does that look?"
He sat up just enough that he could be pretty sure he wouldn't choke or cough with the effort to eat. His eyes glittered at the sight of his first real food in days. "Darlin, I could kiss you."
Hell, he could do that anyway, pretty girls and all, but. Mmm. He hadn't had a good steak, venison or beef or pork or whatever, in ... well, a while.
Yup, that was one very smug little smile on Flute's face at that comment. And a quite, "I know."
She sat back on her chair, eyes glimmering a little, and watched him eat. Ready to help out if he was moving too much for his current injuries.
"My sister tends to say sometimes that when the appetite returns, that's a good sign for recovery. I think yours might count as a very good sign." Yes, there was mirth in her voice too. Not mockery though. Just mirth.
He somehow managed to snort out a 'ridiculous' as he ate, but he wasn't terribly vehement about it. Really, he was more focused on the food. Actual, real food that had once belonged to an animal, not a chemical factory.
Though, he did slow down after a little while. "Feel better, anyway," he gave her a grin.
Actually he felt better than the doctors had predicted, sooner than they had expected. Not that they were telling him this yet.
"You came back," he said, and even he wasn't sure what that note in his voice was. Except uncertainty. It bothered him. A lot of things about her bothered him. "Didn't think you would."
Reply
She slipped easily from the windowsill and crossed the few steps to his bed, lowering herself to a stool by the bedside at a height to make it easy for him to look at her if he wanted. Kissing his forehead lightly on the way. "Are you in much pain now?" The effect of medications came and went... besides, it was polite to ask?
Reply
The kiss, though, the gestures. It was all uncomfortably comforting, soothing in the kind of unusual and unnerving way that made it all jumble up against itself in his head.
"Not right now," he said, cautious, guarded... and a little vulnerable. He was, of course, in some pain, or rather, he ached. But it wasn't bad.
Reply
"That is good. I... have seen too many people get hurt, and my gifts lie not in the area of healing at all. I'm sorry." That she couldn't wave her fingers and make it go away.
Reply
Clover, at least, he understod; she was a woman of pretty simple desires. Kind of like him. She wanted simple things from him, and if he was in a mood, he gave them to her. Most other people, yeah, he could understand. He was a mystery. People liked to poke. This woman-shaped creature... no clue. It bothered him, a little.
(Not half so much as his own reactions to her bothered him, though.)
Reply
No, he wasn't the first one to ever not just expect that kind of thing of her. However, with his way of indeed taking what he could... Well. It was a surprise too small to be disliked.
Besides, she wanted simple things of him too. It's just that getting to them was complicated.
Reply
This wasn't simple. Nothing about her was simple. Love was never simple with him; it was something that usually didn't exist, for him. He didn't want it to. It would mess things up in so many ways.
Reply
How would he know that it couldn't be simple if he's never had it since a very, very long time ago? And perhaps some things it would mess up. And others, it would straighten out, smoothing out tensions that pulled at him without his being able to ease them.
Reply
Reply
Well. Nobody could accuse her of not being enthusiastic when she wanted to...
Reply
Reply
That said, she was back not long after she walked out the door. With a warm, juicy venison steak (it wouldn't even occur to her to try to find a pork one) and fried potatoes - not diner fries, more of a home-made variety. Golden, and fried with herbs, and also still steaming.
She settled them beside him and smirked. "There. How does that look?"
Reply
Hell, he could do that anyway, pretty girls and all, but. Mmm. He hadn't had a good steak, venison or beef or pork or whatever, in ... well, a while.
Reply
She sat back on her chair, eyes glimmering a little, and watched him eat. Ready to help out if he was moving too much for his current injuries.
"My sister tends to say sometimes that when the appetite returns, that's a good sign for recovery. I think yours might count as a very good sign." Yes, there was mirth in her voice too. Not mockery though. Just mirth.
Reply
Though, he did slow down after a little while. "Feel better, anyway," he gave her a grin.
Actually he felt better than the doctors had predicted, sooner than they had expected. Not that they were telling him this yet.
Reply
"That's good. It was a bad hit you took, there." She was still smiling, looking at him. He seemed a trifle more content, and that was nice.
Reply
Leave a comment