woodfortono | (no subject)

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(no subject)

[sure am minding my own damn business, heading to the mess hall to get lunch]

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.