Finally! The next chapter of Where There Are No Roads
I haven't forgotten about writing, I swear! As proof, I bring you the newest of that Kanan reboot I've been puttering around with. (Relevant ratings and warnings found at the index. Today's special warning includes a bit of blood/gore.) I hope you enjoy!
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Kanan got up the next morning before Gojyo did. He was still tired and so he didn't do more than crack his eyelids when he felt the bed move. He pretended to be asleep when she kissed the scars on his cheek. Inside, Gojyo felt like celebrating.
He felt like a man in love. At least, he guessed this was what a man in love felt like, because he'd never thought he was in love before. He kept saying that word to himself as he lay in the bed and the warmth of Kanan's body faded from the sheets. Love? It was ridiculous sentimental crap to feel like last night's rain had washed all the bad stuff away and that the sun was shining just because of the fucking fantastic sex.
Gojyo didn't actually get up until he smelled food cooking, which meant Gojyo was guaranteed to have the shower to himself. Kanan didn't do anything before she washed and dressed in the morning. Not that he'd've minded sharing, exactly, but he didn't want to push his luck with her. He wanted to just coast on the good vibes last night had left behind and pretend that the whole world had changed, when really it was just him and maybe...maybe her too.
Gojyo breezed into the kitchen with his hair still wet, and his heart squeezed extra hard when Kanan handed him a plate of breakfast and she smiled at him.
"Mornin'," he said.
"Good morning, Gojyo," said Kanan. "You slept well?"
He nodded.
"Like a baby," Gojyo said.
The smile left her eyes and he kicked himself.
"Sorry," he said. "I just-"
Kanan shook her head.
"It's my fault," she said. "I need to be less sensitive about this sort of thing."
She took a deep breath, and they both sat at the table with their breakfasts.
"I did too," she said. "Slept like a…like a baby."
Kanan was quiet then, busily scrambling her food around the plate so that there wasn't anything identifiable but colors. Gojyo ate his bit by bit and tried not to watch what she did with hers. He knew she didn't eat more than a bite of it.
"You okay?" he said.
Kanan's green eyes were sharp enough to cut. Gojyo squirmed in his seat a little.
"About last night, I mean," said Gojyo. "You're not-I mean, I didn't hurt you too bad, right?"
What he really wanted to ask was whether she was sorry she'd done it at all, whether she regretted hooking up with a dirty halfbreed like him for her first time out of the gate since she'd been dying in the road. At least, he hoped she hadn't been secretly sleeping with someone else in the meantime, because that would mean he'd have to find that sorry son of a bitch and beat the tar out of him.
Kanan blushed, and it made Gojyo notice a hickey or three along her neck that he didn't remember making.
"I'm fine," she said. "Really."
The straightforwardness Kanan had shown last night was gone, but as far as Gojyo was concerned that meant things were back to normal. Last night was a one-off, a sexy, awesome detour in the long road of his life. Unless, of course, Kanan gave him the go-ahead again.
Didn't seem real likely right now, not with Kanan acting like he was invisible as she dumped her plate and went right into washing dishes without another word to him. He gulped down the rest of his breakfast, even though that meant he scalded his tongue on the steaming hot coffee, and he dropped his dishes into the sink. And if doing that meant he stood, for a second, close enough to feel the heat of her body and smell the soapy smell rising from the back of her neck, well…that was just how life was. It didn't mean anything, just like it didn't mean anything when he thought she leaned a little closer before he jerked himself away from boxing her in by the sink.
The whole house was too quiet this morning. Gojyo couldn't find something to do that looked productive but wasn't, and he didn't think Kanan wanted to talk just now, even if that talk was only to order him to sweep something or dust down the cobwebs from the corners. It really was a small house, way too small not to bump into someone you were trying to avoid. It took him about ten minutes of pacing the living room, waiting with dread for Kanan to finish whatever it was she was doing in the kitchen, to decide that he couldn't stay in the house today, even if that did make it look like (maybe) he was ditching Kanan the morning after the first-only?-time they had sex.
Gojyo popped into the kitchen and snagged the perpetual grocery list from the fridge.
"I'm gonna go into town," he said. "Anything else to go on the list?"
He kept his eyes on the list, but he still could see when Kanan shook her head.
"That's everything," she said. "Have a good time."
Shit. She really must not want to even be around him. No offer of the dragon, no cheerfulness, no gentle teasing about poker or the bar. Nothing. Still, Gojyo made himself smile at Kanan.
"See you later," he said.
"Goodbye, Gojyo," said Kanan.
Gojyo walked out the front door and closed it gently behind him. It still felt like he'd just crushed his own heart in the hinges.
As soon as he was out of sight of the house, Gojyo slowed down from a purposeful walk to something more like his usual amble. He wasn't in any hurry to get to town, and he was in even less of a hurry to get back to Kanan, for once. He studied the crumpled shopping list, but the words just kind of floated right past him, and he didn't know if it was apples or toilet bowl cleaner that he was supposed to get. The list wasn't very long to begin with: there wasn't really any excuse to not bring back what was on it, even though Gojyo knew Kanan knew they both knew it was just an excuse to get him out of the house.
He shook his head. It didn't really matter. One flirty look from him, and one of the market vendors-one of the young, pretty ones-would take the list from him and do all the shopping for him. This thought didn't do much to cheer him up, and in fact he was more or less in a funk the entire time it took from his-their?-house to the market that cut through the middle of town.
It was actually Mrs. Wen, eighty if she was a day, who took Gojyo's list, and not one of her pretty young granddaughters. Gojyo did his best to tag along behind as she went from stall to stall, but Mrs. Wen waved him away.
"It's perfectly all right, dear," she said. "I know what young love looks like. If you do the shopping like this, you won't bring back a thing on the list."
Her wrinkly old face dimpled as she smiled at him, and even though hearing her take on things kind of made him want to barf with nervousness, he did what she said.
Gojyo bought a beer for himself and settled in a shady corner and waited. The time crawled by, and he sipped the beer that mostly tasted like the inside of the can and swatted the flies that came to lick the sweat off his face. He wasn't actually hot, but he was sweating all the same. Nerves, he told himself. It was nerves. He didn't want Mrs. Wen to come back, because when the shopping was done, he'd have to go home and see Kanan. He drained the dregs from the can. Not that he didn't want to see Kanan, but he didn't want her to be unhappy when she saw him.
He wandered the marketplace, not really seeing the things he passed by except to note, in a vague way, whether it was something Kanan liked. Peaches. Knives. Fancy sparkly hair things like the ladies at the bar wore. Brand new boots and boots that had seen better days. Greens. Eels. Rocks. Who the hell bought rocks? Somebody did, he guessed, but why they'd do that when there were perfectly good rocks all over the place was beyond him.
Gojyo spent some time looking for a trash can after that; the beer can in his hand kept slipping, and he would rather just throw it out because what would Kanan say if he came home at this time of day with a beer can? He sighed. She wouldn't say anything, probably, but she'd give him that look, the one that said you can do so much better and he'd feel guilty about it for forever. No. It was better to dispose of the evidence.
It was then that Mrs. Wen caught up with him. She clucked her tongue at the sight of the empty beer he carried.
"Now dear," she said. "What would that nice young lady think? Here, we'll have a cup of tea and give you a little time to compose yourself."
It was clear to Gojyo that Mrs. Wen thought he was drunk. He would've laughed except that would be used as evidence that he was sloshed. So he sat down with Mrs. Wen at the little tea stall and drank tea and listened to her gossip until he thought his brains were going to melt out of his ears from the sheer boredom. He wasn't any more relaxed than he had been earlier, and his ass hurt from the hard bench at the table. Gojyo shifted uncomfortably for the millionth time.
Mrs. Wen's hand patted his, and he jumped backward and almost knocked the bench over.
"You're so nervous," said Mrs. Wen. "Don't be. Just give her a nice smile and the shopping, and everything will be fine."
Gojyo nodded, and Mrs. Wen, with one last concerned look, left him blissfully, gloriously alone. He exhaled loudly and glanced at the pitifully small pair of bags she had left behind. That was it? That was what his entire morning had produced? It didn't seem fair or right, even though fairness and rightness wasn't something he'd ever expected. He felt…cheated. He could've been with Kanan this whole time if he hadn't been so damn scared.
A dim light went on in his head-if he was scared, what about Kanan? Crap. He'd really screwed up this time. He rested his forehead against the table for a few seconds, feeling the grain of the wood dig into his skin.
He had to apologize. Gojyo felt it down to the soles of his feet that just saying he was sorry wouldn't be enough. He looked at the marketplace. A present. Women liked presents and Kanan, though weird, was still a woman. He'd find the perfect gift for her, and then, then she would have to know how he felt, right?
"There's got to be something here for her," Gojyo said.
He got up from the table, grabbed his bags, and started to walk.
Gojyo hurried home to surprise Kanan with a couple things he'd seen in town and thought she'd like-a ribbon to keep the hair out of her face-he'd seen her struggling with it lately, pushing it back out of her face and back angain ten seconds later when it fell into her face in the same spot-and a new sharpening stone for the kitchen knives, and, just for fun, a couple of old, dusty books that could be boring but maybe not. They were poetry, he could tell, but about what, he didn't know. Between the age of the book and the complicated characters, Gojyo could only make out about two words per line. His insides did complicated little jigs when he tried to imagine how Kanan might like what he'd brought.
Gojyo opened the front door of the house and froze at the hot-metal smell of blood that hung in the air. Something was wrong. He dropped the shopping in the doorway and, two seconds later, almost fell when he tried to step over it.
"Kanan?" he said. "Kanan!"
She wasn't in the living room or in the kitchen. His heart drummed in his ears. He strode into the bedroom. Nothing. A flash of movement caught his eye, in the doorway that led from bedroom to bath. The door was wide open. Kanan sat on the toilet, and even at this distance Gojyo could see she'd been crying.
"In here," Kanan said. "I'm okay."
She drew a shaky breath and dissolved into ragged sobs.
Gojyo went closer. She hadn't been attacked, hadn't stabbed herself again. A light bulb went on in his head, and he tried not to look at her underwear, around her ankles, spotted with blood. Oh. He could undertand, kind of, why she was crying, but he couldn't tell if it was because she was happy or sad.
It wasn't like he'd never been around a woman during that time of the month. Gojyo shied away from thoughts of his step-mom. There'd been girls he'd gone home with who'd spontaneously started theirs. He'd always chalked it up to chance or blind bad luck on his part, because he refused to believe that his water-youkai genes had anything to do with it. That was crazy talk.
"Hey," he said.
Kanan looked up.
"Hey yourself," she said. "I just…wasn't expecting this."
Though she gestured at herself, Gojyo tried not to follow her hands with his eyes.
"Want a washcloth?" he said.
It was like he was in a horror movie: up close, Kanan was sweaty and shock-y, the smell of blood overpowered the air, and everywhere he looked-the floor, the bed, Kanan's legs-were livid smears of blood.
"Please," said Kanan.
He got a washcloth off the shelf and ran a little warm tap water on it. She took it from his hand and he turned his head out of politeness while she started cleaning up. He stood there, feeling awkward and useless until he couldn't do it-do nothing-any more.
Gojyo brought her clean clothes, and he changed the sheets on the bed and used the old ones to mop up the floor while he was at it and Kanan did her thing with the bathroom door still wide open. Gojyo sat at the foot of the bed and waited.
At last, Kanan came out of the bathroom, looking freshly scrubbed, if pale, in the pajamas he'd brought. Gojyo avoided looking at her directly.
"D'you need me to get you anything?" he said.
In his experience, women liked sweets and sad movies and painkillers. And tampons. Pads. Whatever. He looked up like she would explode if he did it too fast or too obviously.
Kanan shook her head.
"No thank you," she said. "I have everything I need."
He wondered where she'd hidden her…lady supplies. It was a small bathroom. Gojyo decided he didn't really want to know. He was not-so-secretly relieved he wasn't going to have to make a run into town for her. He would've done it, but he was just as happy not to have to.
"Okay," he said.
Kanan pulled back the covers and got into the bed. He could feel her staring expectantly at his back, and he sighed. Gojyo stripped down to his underwear and slid into his side of the bed. He stayed at the far edge.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," she said.
He waved a hand at Kanan. She grabbed it and dragged his arm toward her.
"You didn't," he said. "Not really. 'S'not your fault."
He was sure she could feel how hard his heart was working right through his skin, finally coming down off the adrenaline that'd hit when he'd opened the front door.
"Shit," he said. "I brought you some stuff from town."
He tried to sit up, but she dragged him down again.
"Stay," she said. "Just for a little while."
He looked over at her. Her eyes were half-closed. She looked tired and pale, but at least the scent of blood was starting to fade. Kanan yawned.
"All right," said Gojyo. "I'll stay. And later, we'll have some dinner, and I'll show you…"
Kanan was out like a light, before he even finished his sentence. Gojyo felt a cold knot in his stomach loosen.
Even while she slept, she clung to his hand. She'd never know he hung onto her just as hard.
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There! Now, to figure out what I'm going to have them do for the next chapter and a half--did I say I was going to go to 11 chapters? Well, that's the plan, and I kind of have the very end already written.
~later
p.s. When did they change the look of the posting page? XD Shows how much I've done on here lately...
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Kanan got up the next morning before Gojyo did. He was still tired and so he didn't do more than crack his eyelids when he felt the bed move. He pretended to be asleep when she kissed the scars on his cheek. Inside, Gojyo felt like celebrating.
He felt like a man in love. At least, he guessed this was what a man in love felt like, because he'd never thought he was in love before. He kept saying that word to himself as he lay in the bed and the warmth of Kanan's body faded from the sheets. Love? It was ridiculous sentimental crap to feel like last night's rain had washed all the bad stuff away and that the sun was shining just because of the fucking fantastic sex.
Gojyo didn't actually get up until he smelled food cooking, which meant Gojyo was guaranteed to have the shower to himself. Kanan didn't do anything before she washed and dressed in the morning. Not that he'd've minded sharing, exactly, but he didn't want to push his luck with her. He wanted to just coast on the good vibes last night had left behind and pretend that the whole world had changed, when really it was just him and maybe...maybe her too.
Gojyo breezed into the kitchen with his hair still wet, and his heart squeezed extra hard when Kanan handed him a plate of breakfast and she smiled at him.
"Mornin'," he said.
"Good morning, Gojyo," said Kanan. "You slept well?"
He nodded.
"Like a baby," Gojyo said.
The smile left her eyes and he kicked himself.
"Sorry," he said. "I just-"
Kanan shook her head.
"It's my fault," she said. "I need to be less sensitive about this sort of thing."
She took a deep breath, and they both sat at the table with their breakfasts.
"I did too," she said. "Slept like a…like a baby."
Kanan was quiet then, busily scrambling her food around the plate so that there wasn't anything identifiable but colors. Gojyo ate his bit by bit and tried not to watch what she did with hers. He knew she didn't eat more than a bite of it.
"You okay?" he said.
Kanan's green eyes were sharp enough to cut. Gojyo squirmed in his seat a little.
"About last night, I mean," said Gojyo. "You're not-I mean, I didn't hurt you too bad, right?"
What he really wanted to ask was whether she was sorry she'd done it at all, whether she regretted hooking up with a dirty halfbreed like him for her first time out of the gate since she'd been dying in the road. At least, he hoped she hadn't been secretly sleeping with someone else in the meantime, because that would mean he'd have to find that sorry son of a bitch and beat the tar out of him.
Kanan blushed, and it made Gojyo notice a hickey or three along her neck that he didn't remember making.
"I'm fine," she said. "Really."
The straightforwardness Kanan had shown last night was gone, but as far as Gojyo was concerned that meant things were back to normal. Last night was a one-off, a sexy, awesome detour in the long road of his life. Unless, of course, Kanan gave him the go-ahead again.
Didn't seem real likely right now, not with Kanan acting like he was invisible as she dumped her plate and went right into washing dishes without another word to him. He gulped down the rest of his breakfast, even though that meant he scalded his tongue on the steaming hot coffee, and he dropped his dishes into the sink. And if doing that meant he stood, for a second, close enough to feel the heat of her body and smell the soapy smell rising from the back of her neck, well…that was just how life was. It didn't mean anything, just like it didn't mean anything when he thought she leaned a little closer before he jerked himself away from boxing her in by the sink.
The whole house was too quiet this morning. Gojyo couldn't find something to do that looked productive but wasn't, and he didn't think Kanan wanted to talk just now, even if that talk was only to order him to sweep something or dust down the cobwebs from the corners. It really was a small house, way too small not to bump into someone you were trying to avoid. It took him about ten minutes of pacing the living room, waiting with dread for Kanan to finish whatever it was she was doing in the kitchen, to decide that he couldn't stay in the house today, even if that did make it look like (maybe) he was ditching Kanan the morning after the first-only?-time they had sex.
Gojyo popped into the kitchen and snagged the perpetual grocery list from the fridge.
"I'm gonna go into town," he said. "Anything else to go on the list?"
He kept his eyes on the list, but he still could see when Kanan shook her head.
"That's everything," she said. "Have a good time."
Shit. She really must not want to even be around him. No offer of the dragon, no cheerfulness, no gentle teasing about poker or the bar. Nothing. Still, Gojyo made himself smile at Kanan.
"See you later," he said.
"Goodbye, Gojyo," said Kanan.
Gojyo walked out the front door and closed it gently behind him. It still felt like he'd just crushed his own heart in the hinges.
As soon as he was out of sight of the house, Gojyo slowed down from a purposeful walk to something more like his usual amble. He wasn't in any hurry to get to town, and he was in even less of a hurry to get back to Kanan, for once. He studied the crumpled shopping list, but the words just kind of floated right past him, and he didn't know if it was apples or toilet bowl cleaner that he was supposed to get. The list wasn't very long to begin with: there wasn't really any excuse to not bring back what was on it, even though Gojyo knew Kanan knew they both knew it was just an excuse to get him out of the house.
He shook his head. It didn't really matter. One flirty look from him, and one of the market vendors-one of the young, pretty ones-would take the list from him and do all the shopping for him. This thought didn't do much to cheer him up, and in fact he was more or less in a funk the entire time it took from his-their?-house to the market that cut through the middle of town.
It was actually Mrs. Wen, eighty if she was a day, who took Gojyo's list, and not one of her pretty young granddaughters. Gojyo did his best to tag along behind as she went from stall to stall, but Mrs. Wen waved him away.
"It's perfectly all right, dear," she said. "I know what young love looks like. If you do the shopping like this, you won't bring back a thing on the list."
Her wrinkly old face dimpled as she smiled at him, and even though hearing her take on things kind of made him want to barf with nervousness, he did what she said.
Gojyo bought a beer for himself and settled in a shady corner and waited. The time crawled by, and he sipped the beer that mostly tasted like the inside of the can and swatted the flies that came to lick the sweat off his face. He wasn't actually hot, but he was sweating all the same. Nerves, he told himself. It was nerves. He didn't want Mrs. Wen to come back, because when the shopping was done, he'd have to go home and see Kanan. He drained the dregs from the can. Not that he didn't want to see Kanan, but he didn't want her to be unhappy when she saw him.
He wandered the marketplace, not really seeing the things he passed by except to note, in a vague way, whether it was something Kanan liked. Peaches. Knives. Fancy sparkly hair things like the ladies at the bar wore. Brand new boots and boots that had seen better days. Greens. Eels. Rocks. Who the hell bought rocks? Somebody did, he guessed, but why they'd do that when there were perfectly good rocks all over the place was beyond him.
Gojyo spent some time looking for a trash can after that; the beer can in his hand kept slipping, and he would rather just throw it out because what would Kanan say if he came home at this time of day with a beer can? He sighed. She wouldn't say anything, probably, but she'd give him that look, the one that said you can do so much better and he'd feel guilty about it for forever. No. It was better to dispose of the evidence.
It was then that Mrs. Wen caught up with him. She clucked her tongue at the sight of the empty beer he carried.
"Now dear," she said. "What would that nice young lady think? Here, we'll have a cup of tea and give you a little time to compose yourself."
It was clear to Gojyo that Mrs. Wen thought he was drunk. He would've laughed except that would be used as evidence that he was sloshed. So he sat down with Mrs. Wen at the little tea stall and drank tea and listened to her gossip until he thought his brains were going to melt out of his ears from the sheer boredom. He wasn't any more relaxed than he had been earlier, and his ass hurt from the hard bench at the table. Gojyo shifted uncomfortably for the millionth time.
Mrs. Wen's hand patted his, and he jumped backward and almost knocked the bench over.
"You're so nervous," said Mrs. Wen. "Don't be. Just give her a nice smile and the shopping, and everything will be fine."
Gojyo nodded, and Mrs. Wen, with one last concerned look, left him blissfully, gloriously alone. He exhaled loudly and glanced at the pitifully small pair of bags she had left behind. That was it? That was what his entire morning had produced? It didn't seem fair or right, even though fairness and rightness wasn't something he'd ever expected. He felt…cheated. He could've been with Kanan this whole time if he hadn't been so damn scared.
A dim light went on in his head-if he was scared, what about Kanan? Crap. He'd really screwed up this time. He rested his forehead against the table for a few seconds, feeling the grain of the wood dig into his skin.
He had to apologize. Gojyo felt it down to the soles of his feet that just saying he was sorry wouldn't be enough. He looked at the marketplace. A present. Women liked presents and Kanan, though weird, was still a woman. He'd find the perfect gift for her, and then, then she would have to know how he felt, right?
"There's got to be something here for her," Gojyo said.
He got up from the table, grabbed his bags, and started to walk.
Gojyo hurried home to surprise Kanan with a couple things he'd seen in town and thought she'd like-a ribbon to keep the hair out of her face-he'd seen her struggling with it lately, pushing it back out of her face and back angain ten seconds later when it fell into her face in the same spot-and a new sharpening stone for the kitchen knives, and, just for fun, a couple of old, dusty books that could be boring but maybe not. They were poetry, he could tell, but about what, he didn't know. Between the age of the book and the complicated characters, Gojyo could only make out about two words per line. His insides did complicated little jigs when he tried to imagine how Kanan might like what he'd brought.
Gojyo opened the front door of the house and froze at the hot-metal smell of blood that hung in the air. Something was wrong. He dropped the shopping in the doorway and, two seconds later, almost fell when he tried to step over it.
"Kanan?" he said. "Kanan!"
She wasn't in the living room or in the kitchen. His heart drummed in his ears. He strode into the bedroom. Nothing. A flash of movement caught his eye, in the doorway that led from bedroom to bath. The door was wide open. Kanan sat on the toilet, and even at this distance Gojyo could see she'd been crying.
"In here," Kanan said. "I'm okay."
She drew a shaky breath and dissolved into ragged sobs.
Gojyo went closer. She hadn't been attacked, hadn't stabbed herself again. A light bulb went on in his head, and he tried not to look at her underwear, around her ankles, spotted with blood. Oh. He could undertand, kind of, why she was crying, but he couldn't tell if it was because she was happy or sad.
It wasn't like he'd never been around a woman during that time of the month. Gojyo shied away from thoughts of his step-mom. There'd been girls he'd gone home with who'd spontaneously started theirs. He'd always chalked it up to chance or blind bad luck on his part, because he refused to believe that his water-youkai genes had anything to do with it. That was crazy talk.
"Hey," he said.
Kanan looked up.
"Hey yourself," she said. "I just…wasn't expecting this."
Though she gestured at herself, Gojyo tried not to follow her hands with his eyes.
"Want a washcloth?" he said.
It was like he was in a horror movie: up close, Kanan was sweaty and shock-y, the smell of blood overpowered the air, and everywhere he looked-the floor, the bed, Kanan's legs-were livid smears of blood.
"Please," said Kanan.
He got a washcloth off the shelf and ran a little warm tap water on it. She took it from his hand and he turned his head out of politeness while she started cleaning up. He stood there, feeling awkward and useless until he couldn't do it-do nothing-any more.
Gojyo brought her clean clothes, and he changed the sheets on the bed and used the old ones to mop up the floor while he was at it and Kanan did her thing with the bathroom door still wide open. Gojyo sat at the foot of the bed and waited.
At last, Kanan came out of the bathroom, looking freshly scrubbed, if pale, in the pajamas he'd brought. Gojyo avoided looking at her directly.
"D'you need me to get you anything?" he said.
In his experience, women liked sweets and sad movies and painkillers. And tampons. Pads. Whatever. He looked up like she would explode if he did it too fast or too obviously.
Kanan shook her head.
"No thank you," she said. "I have everything I need."
He wondered where she'd hidden her…lady supplies. It was a small bathroom. Gojyo decided he didn't really want to know. He was not-so-secretly relieved he wasn't going to have to make a run into town for her. He would've done it, but he was just as happy not to have to.
"Okay," he said.
Kanan pulled back the covers and got into the bed. He could feel her staring expectantly at his back, and he sighed. Gojyo stripped down to his underwear and slid into his side of the bed. He stayed at the far edge.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," she said.
He waved a hand at Kanan. She grabbed it and dragged his arm toward her.
"You didn't," he said. "Not really. 'S'not your fault."
He was sure she could feel how hard his heart was working right through his skin, finally coming down off the adrenaline that'd hit when he'd opened the front door.
"Shit," he said. "I brought you some stuff from town."
He tried to sit up, but she dragged him down again.
"Stay," she said. "Just for a little while."
He looked over at her. Her eyes were half-closed. She looked tired and pale, but at least the scent of blood was starting to fade. Kanan yawned.
"All right," said Gojyo. "I'll stay. And later, we'll have some dinner, and I'll show you…"
Kanan was out like a light, before he even finished his sentence. Gojyo felt a cold knot in his stomach loosen.
Even while she slept, she clung to his hand. She'd never know he hung onto her just as hard.
=====
There! Now, to figure out what I'm going to have them do for the next chapter and a half--did I say I was going to go to 11 chapters? Well, that's the plan, and I kind of have the very end already written.
~later
p.s. When did they change the look of the posting page? XD Shows how much I've done on here lately...