[There is an open door leading into a nicely-furnished bedroom in this neutral hallway. The bed is made, bay window open to let in the interdimensional summer breeze; shafts of afternoon sunlight filtering in and playing off the specks of dust, making the hardwood flooring gleam
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Hello? Someone need help?
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[...She doesn't have the energy to even attempt to make this look better than it is, but she'll try anyway.]
[Miserably:] 'm fine...
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[Lavi pulls back a little, still frowning.] Hardly what I'd call fine. Come on, let's get you cleaned up if you're done...
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[Even talking brings round a new surge of nausea that sends her shoulders hunching tightly.]
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Lavi bites his lip and nods, looking up at the sink for what he wants. A washcloth. Not moving from her side he reaches up and turns the sink on, wetting the cloth and squeezing it out, holding it to the back of her neck.] Here.
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Thank you.
[Hey may notice, among the hundred other things to notice as being wrong about this situation, that her ankles are noticeably bare, with her stockings pushed down around them as if to try and hide what isn't there.]
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[He hasn't noticed just yet, he might not for a while with so many things going on inside his own head. That and his worry for her keeps him from noticing much more.]
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I don't think it would help much anyway, to be quite honest.
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Lean on me if you need to, I don't mind.
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[See, she even raised her voice a little to sound like it.]
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If you say so...
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--Maybe if I say it enough, it'll be true.
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Only rest will, you know that.
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[Ha, ha. She should get an award for making a joke like that now. Either that or a slap upside the head. Very slightly, Lenalee leans against him. You could almost call it accidental-- but only if you didn't know her well enough to realize it's anything but.]
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[Lavi - in his worry - doesn't notice the joke really, instead just sighing softly and rubbing her back a bit. But he doesn't push her away or try to make her lean more, usually it's wiser to let Lenalee move when she wants to.]
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[At first, Lavi won't get any reply. Too busy reminiscing of awful things, in that back-breaking way she has a habit of falling into. She should be more worried, maybe, of how easily she can pile all the blame for a situation on herself and it still never feels like enough.]
[Then:] ...all right.
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