MAEA
She followed him to the tub, let him get in and then perched on the edge beside him. Close enough that his head could lean against her thigh, if he wished it. Bringing the cloth down into the hot water, Maea wrung it out and reached for his head, to hold him gently as she began to wipe away the blood that stained his face. He was so cold under her hands, where usually his skin would almost burn her, and it scared her far more than the rusty flakes that peeled from his jaw. Careful not to force anything, ready to withdraw at a moments notice should he object, she kept wiping away the blood, the gore from his bronzed skin. Already the water was stained with red, but she did not bother to notice if her white clothes got splattered with it, or if her hands were soiled from touching him. She didn't care.
Maea's hands only stilled when he spoke. No more than a pained whisper to her ears, hoarse and choking, like the cold had crept into his lungs and tried to take root there. The chill bit into her too, a terrible sense of foreboding that keened in her ears. Made her want to clamp her hands over them, never to hear this. Never to know.
Who? Who did you get killed?
"What happened?" she asked, so very gently. Biting down on her own fears, pushing away everything she might feel or think or dread so that he was the only thing that existed in her mind. Sunjata, leaning back in a bloodstained bath, ice in his veins and a hole in his soul. She resumed her quiet ministrations, soking the soap to gently lather her hands and rub it into his stubbled cheeks, jaws... anywhere that he would let her.
She didn't want to know. But asked anyway. He had to speak of it, or this wound would surely fester.
Maea's hands only stilled when he spoke. No more than a pained whisper to her ears, hoarse and choking, like the cold had crept into his lungs and tried to take root there. The chill bit into her too, a terrible sense of foreboding that keened in her ears. Made her want to clamp her hands over them, never to hear this. Never to know.
Who? Who did you get killed?
"What happened?" she asked, so very gently. Biting down on her own fears, pushing away everything she might feel or think or dread so that he was the only thing that existed in her mind. Sunjata, leaning back in a bloodstained bath, ice in his veins and a hole in his soul. She resumed her quiet ministrations, soking the soap to gently lather her hands and rub it into his stubbled cheeks, jaws... anywhere that he would let her.
She didn't want to know. But asked anyway. He had to speak of it, or this wound would surely fester.
I'm bleeding out for you
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
