< just_muse_me - Change - It Takes Times >
Nadine Lewis
Batman (OC)
656 words
It's been three days. The man has left, as he does most nights, but tonight is different. He's told her she can use the shower, but she doesn't leave the room until she knows he's gone.
The bathroom is small, the tiles on the floor cracked and the paint peeling, but she doesn't mind it. She shuts the door, turning the lock. She doesn't even know if it works, but she remembers what it is, what it's meant for. There weren't locks at the doctor's house, not after she tried locking herself in the bedroom. The doctor removed them after that.
On the counter, almost falling into the dry sink, sweatpants and a t-shirt wait. He asked her what size clothes she wore yesterday, but she still hasn't said a word to him. She still doesn't know if she should.
Two bottles are on top of the toilet, and she looks at them. The doctor provided her with shampoo and conditioner, of course, but these are different. The bottles are bigger, and they smell strongly of lemons as soon as she opens one. She's eager to use them, eager to show some sort of gratitude for everything the man's done for her. After all, he doesn't have to do any of this.
She turns on the water, surprised when it comes from something above, but there's something familiar about it, and she doesn't try to correct the problem. She adjusts the water, making it a little hotter than she might normally. She's away from the Scarecrow, away from the doctor, but she feels the need now to try and wash away the feeling of those hands on her.
As the water falls, she strips. Every movement is careful, the door glanced at many times. The handle doesn't turn, there is no sound other than the water. She is alone. She steps into the shower, setting the bottles for her hair on the tub's floor, and pushes the sliding door closed.
She washes her hair first then finds the soap. Her face feels clean quickly. The rest of her body takes longer. Even sore from scrubbing, she still doesn't feel fully clean, but the water's gotten cool, so she relents for now. She pulls the towel down from where it hangs, over the top of the shower's door. She stands in the tub, still rubbing her skin until it's dry and hurts more. She gives up, pushes the door open, and steps out.
The pants fit pretty well, the elastic waist making sure they stay up even if she is a bit too thin for them. The t-shirt is too large for her, but it's comfortable. Under the clothes, there's a packaged toothbrush. She manages to get it open and uses the toothpaste set out on the counter.
It is a very mundane thing, brushing her teeth, and she knows it. It is very mundane, but it brings a strange comfort.
She looks at her abandoned clothes, piled in a heap on the floor, and she picks them up. There is no basket in the bathroom, nowhere to put them. She goes into the hall, but it is equally lacking. Finally, back in her room, she folds them and sets them in a corner. She sits down on the bed and waits.
Some time later, the apartment door opens. She doesn't relax, however slight that relaxation is, until she hears the man. "It's only me," he calls.
She gets up, careful, and goes to her door. She opens it, peeking out, standing where he can see her. She won't go to him, still prefers he not get too close, but she wants to see him. He sees her.
"Feeling any better?" he asks. She looks at him for some time, and he gives up, she sees that. He gives up on the idea. However, when he glances at her again, she nods. It is a small gesture, but it is definite.
She thinks he might have smiled-- just a little.