Recovery

[shadarsedai]

Waking is disorienting. Her head aches and her throat hurts from protracted crying the night before - was it night when she finally slept? Perhaps.

Di'aliz shifts, just slightly, pressing a thin hand to her forehead. The cuts are clean still, and dried in thin lines by now.

GoneOh, how it hurts, the loss of that place. Still, it hurts, though

Comments

[forsaken_bard]

Asmodean did not sleep much last night. A spot on his nightshirt from where she had cried herself to sleep on him. Sitting up in bed next to her, he glanced down at her.

(She was so very dirty after all that time at the house. From ash, from tears, from blood. She could not be trusted in a bath.

It was a simple matter, really. It had taken time. Her sitting naked on that stool. The hot water in the basin as he gently washed her. His dark hair tied back from his face, water running down his elbows, his knees aching from the stone floor, and his pants wet, shirt long since discarded.

That empty vacant look as she sat there, and let him bathe her. The basin of water grey with ash with swirls of blood.)

His voice a bit hoarse from lack of use as he spoke to her.

"Morning, Di'aliz."

[shadarsedai]

She opens her eyes very slowly, wincing a little in the light that floods in through the thin curtains of her room. Her gaze is empty, for a moment, staring up at him expressionlessly.

Then, with strange effort, she turns onto her side under the sheet, curling a little as if for comfort.

[forsaken_bard]

A tilt of his head as he looked at her, curling in the sheets beside him. He had intentionally emptied their schedule for the last few days so he could attend to her.

"Do you want me to get you breakfast?"

A pause as he thought for a moment longer.

"Or would you rather me stay and attend to you?"

[shadarsedai]

A delicate hand carefully extends to curl lightly around his wrist, mute appeal not to leave her on her own. She needs him right now.