Perchance to Comfort (Noir, Mireille/Kirika, PG)
Title: Perchance to Comfort
Author: Star of Heaven
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word count: 192
Summary: Kirika is often the one to comfort Mireille.
Prompt: Hurt/comfort - "Sleep, those little slices of death; oh, how I loathe them." (June 4)
Perchance to Comfort
Disclaimer: I don't own Noir.
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They sat upon the bed, with Kirika bandaging Mireille's wounds. Another mission had been successfully completed, and once again Mireille had ended up in worse shape than Kirika.
Being wounded on a mission was not uncommon, but lately it seemed that Mireille had to be saved by Kirika on every other mission. She even had to be rescued the first time they met. She was supposed to be the top professional in the field, and yet she constantly needed to be saved by an amnesiac teenage girl. All those wounds she had received, now and before, those little slices of death, reminded her of her own shortcomings. No amount of training would put her on the same level as Kirika's innate skills.
Yet, this situation wasn't wholly loathsome. Whenever Mireille was wounded, Kirika was always certain to treat her as soon as possible. It was a small comfort, but one certainly welcomed. Mireille leaned her head against Kirika's, and Kirika hardly seemed fazed. "Thank you," Mireille whispered, probably too softly for Kirika to hear.
Mireille would never admit this, but when she slept, she felt comforted by Kirika's presence next to her.
Author: Star of Heaven
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word count: 192
Summary: Kirika is often the one to comfort Mireille.
Prompt: Hurt/comfort - "Sleep, those little slices of death; oh, how I loathe them." (June 4)
Perchance to Comfort
Disclaimer: I don't own Noir.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They sat upon the bed, with Kirika bandaging Mireille's wounds. Another mission had been successfully completed, and once again Mireille had ended up in worse shape than Kirika.
Being wounded on a mission was not uncommon, but lately it seemed that Mireille had to be saved by Kirika on every other mission. She even had to be rescued the first time they met. She was supposed to be the top professional in the field, and yet she constantly needed to be saved by an amnesiac teenage girl. All those wounds she had received, now and before, those little slices of death, reminded her of her own shortcomings. No amount of training would put her on the same level as Kirika's innate skills.
Yet, this situation wasn't wholly loathsome. Whenever Mireille was wounded, Kirika was always certain to treat her as soon as possible. It was a small comfort, but one certainly welcomed. Mireille leaned her head against Kirika's, and Kirika hardly seemed fazed. "Thank you," Mireille whispered, probably too softly for Kirika to hear.
Mireille would never admit this, but when she slept, she felt comforted by Kirika's presence next to her.