woodfortono | (no subject)

I don't need ice.

[rubbing his forehead gingerly]

I just need to sleep. I'll be fine.

Yes, you do, but you still need to ice that or you'll feel much worse when you wake up.

Please sit.

[his back stiffening before he turns around, his face set]

Fine. [snapping, stalking back and throwing himself down in the chair again, ignoring how the movement jars his entire body, his ribs aching as he sits there and breathes hard, not looking at your face, his hands trembling faintly]

[She tenses only a little when he snaps, tries not to flinch when he slams himself into the chair, but she goes to fetch a cold compress rather dutifully, wrapping it in a hand towel so it won't be so harsh on his skin.

Her hands are still slow and gentle when she presses it to the worst of the bruising.]

[makes a soft sound when the compress touches his bare skin, his breath shallow and shaky as he closes his eyes, swallowing hard]

I know, but it'll help. All the books say deep bruises like this hurt so much because the capillaries under your skin burst. The ice will keep it from spreading and getting worse.

[She's mostly talking to fill the quiet and try to stave off some of the awkward tension.]

[swallows hard, and finally manages] ...thanks.

It's no problem. You said last time you didn't want a healer, so I figured something probably ought to be done about it sooner rather than later.

But if you are going to let it go on its own you might sleep better propped up. It'll hurt less.

[reaches up to grip your wrist, and he can't quite look up for a second]

...I mean it. [forcing his eyes up, his face exhausted and pained] Thank you.

I know. I know when you mean things -- and when you don't.

[She smiles a bit.] You're welcome. It really is no trouble for me. And less for you, now that I know not to use flour, right?

...one of these days I'll stop being a jerk to you when you're just trying to help.

[drops his hand and looks away again]

Not today, apparently.

You're not being a jerk, you're just hurt. And ... probably a little frustrated.

Please stop worrying. I'm not taking any of it to heart, neither should you.

[just closes his eyes, looking helplessly drained]

[Keeps the cold compress there for a few minutes longer before she pulls it away.]

If you want to lie down, I can keep this up a while, keep an eye on things.

...how long was I out?

I'm not sure exactly how long, but you still need to rest either way. You'll feel better.

Not ... great, but definitely better.

I mean--what time is it? Do you need to rest?

I'll be just fine. You just worry about feeling better, alright?

Kotoha...

[but he's so exhausted he can barely keep his eyes open, despite his impromptu coma]

[Another smile, and she reaches out to help him up.]

Come on, to bed. I'll bring in a bit more ice and see what I can do about your shirt.

[just sort of lets you do whatever you're going to do, he's incredibly tired]

[Then you will be put right to bed, propped up on pillows with an ice compress nestled in with you, wrapped in a towel. Bless your heart.]

[i like you ;;;;;]

[I like you too. But I think we established that already.]

[yes good coma now]