His voice reciting words that had long since become a part of her, soothed and lulled her in their familiarity. As she began to fall into slumber, a smile came to her face, amused by his production of the story. The voices though comical, somehow fitting to this all, and she didn't even notice when she finally fell deep into sleep.
Hearing Dolly's paws padding around and then the door, she didn't bother opening her eyes, she knew that it was probably for her morning walk and that she was most likely alone so she just stayed there. Half awake, half asleep, grateful for the rest. Grateful for him. The time between then and hearing his keys clinking against their familiar place, didn't seem too long but she didn't move, even as she heard the television turn on. Dolly, undoubtedly, watching her favorite show. Soft sounds of fingers tapping away, a sigh, Dolly painting happily as her tail thumped happily against the floor, shower running the distance, she had half a mind to just let it all lull her back asleep.
His whisper forced her to finally move. Maybe it was a good thing. Moving around might help her regain some of that strength back. Heal her quicker, the quicker she did, the faster she would be out of his home. Back in her apartment over the office. There she would make sense of some of things that had been occurring these last couple of days. Unfurling slowly as she opened her eyes, she grimaced as she moved, zings of pain going up her spine and down her leg as she did so. Sitting up properly, she could see that Dolly indeed was watching her cartoon dog show and Wally had showered.
The way he looked brought back that day before he left for work, when Dolly stayed with her.
When he had showered at her place after falling asleep there and he made himself at home in her kitchen, with his wet hair in his face. Something so casual and almost intimate about it. Something she hadn't seen that way then. Intimacy was not something she had been accustomed to unless it was under the guise of an endgame. It was fake, a facade of closeness that was orchestrated to her design.
But him..... he had never been.
An unknown emotion rippled through her and she had to look away and stow it away. She needed to focus on one thing at a time. Right now that one thing is getting well, regaining her voice, but most importantly of all, walking without being in pain. Nodding, she stood up and made her way to the table, hunger being the thing that came to the top. Strange but not surprising seeing how the little she had eaten the night before was the first she had eaten in, how long did he say it had been?, three months? The oatmeal smelled amazing and tasted it too, but after two spoonfuls and a bit of mashed up berries and banana her brain had told her that she had enough.
Shame colored her cheeks at how little she ate but she thanked him with a simple nod before leaving him to his work and washing up. Making her way to the bathroom as best as she could, stopping only to pet Dolly and gather her things from the closet.
Once she was in the bathroom, the door closed behind her, she sat on the edge of the tub with a sigh. Turning the water on, she decided to look at the things in there for a moment. Smiling and thinking how so him everything was. From the face wash, to the lotion to the Ouai shampoo, even the matching towels. Something about being in this space of his, using his things that felt.....weird? Was that what she felt, weird ? She couldn't decide but wouldn't think any further about it right now. It wasn't until she tried to wash her hair that she realized how bad her side, or her shoulder — she couldn't pin point where it all was coming from anymore —, injury was and ended up having to do it one handed.
Once she was out of the shower, wrapped in his towels, she realized that she smelled just like him. And it felt warm. Nice. Again, something else she'd have to think about later.
Drying off, she began to, very carefully and unhurriedly, get dressed. Starting with her underwear and pants, being able to bring her legs up and knee up towards her chest instead of having to bend over or stretch her arm all the way for those was a blessing. A blessing that didn't extend to her being able to put her bra on. The moment she tried to reach behind herself with her right hand blinding white pain filled her and she doubled over onto the floor.
Instead of a yell, she barely squeaked, even Dolly's toys were louder than she was. This was a task that she'd have to ask for help and she hated it, didn't want him to look at her back. To see her scar. The logical part of her brain said that he had already seen more than just her back during the Canary's and she didn't need to be shy about it at all. But she also knew that it meant questions, even if he was kind and not the type to ask now, he'd ask someday.
Debating it, she cautiously made her way off the floor and onto the closed toilet seat. Breathing hard through the pain as she argued with herself. Fuck it. She needed to follow Polaris home, out the seas and back onto land and if this was what was required to do so, then djöfulsins, she'd fucking do it. When the blinding white dots of pain subsided, she grabbed the towel and wrapped it around herself, cracked the door open and knocked on the wall. Hard and loud, knowing that he would come if she did so. As soon as he did, her hands came up, left fist with the thumb up over her right hand, bringing them up together. Then flat palm against her chest.
Then turned around, dropping the towel, bearing her back to him, bra straps dangling on either side, hair pulled over her left shoulder to the front. Waiting for him to assist. Uncomfortability of the situation she found herself in had her grimacing towards the wall in front of her, fighting back waves of nausea and unease of it all.
