picklerps:
Sturgis could tell it wasn’t easy for Lily to be in a vulnerable position, never mind reliant on him of all people. For all his good intentions, the two weren’t exactly close, and if he knew anything about her, it was that she preferred to be the one taking care of people – not bleeding on the couch of a guy who’d given her his address for a booty call.
She was handling it well, though; there had been no silly ‘I can take it from here’s or ‘you don’t have to’s. They both knew what had to be done, and they were doing it to the best of their respective abilities, all things considered.
For his part, Podmore was having a surprisingly easy time thinking of her as friend-who-needs-mending rather than redhead-I-would-shag, although much of that was probably due to the amount of blood and bruises she was covered in. Nevertheless, her request for help in taking her shirt off stirred nothing in his nether regions, and so the following “I thought you’d never ask,” was almost platonic in nature; he’d just have hated to miss a good joke.
He bit down on his wand before gingerly starting to unbutton the garment. Thankfully the bra underneath seemed largely unscathed, if covered in blood, and he could’ve sighed with relief. Gently peeling the fabric from her skin, Sturgis began applying dittany all over the newly exposed cuts and scrapes, his earlier anger simmering just below the surface as he quietly focused on the task at hand.
With that done, he sat back on his heels and looked up at Lily again, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as he tried to decipher her expression. Only then did he notice that she seemed to be trembling, and he cursed himself for not realising sooner. She was probably in shock, she needed a blanket or something. He picked up a throw from the adjacent armchair and draped it over her, before asking, “Right, am I missing anything? Do you want another pain relief potion, or a sleeping draught, or even a cuppa?”
Each button that came undone brought a scarlet shame to her skin. It was mortifying to her, to be so exposed to what she knew was more or less a stranger, but a girlish indignity had no place in a war and she did her best to remember. The soft touches across her skin were nicer than she anticipated and she focused on it; it was better than the pain. “You’ve done this before...”
Glancing up at him at his question she felt her face screw up in confusion as she tried to make sense of his words. He’d asked her something, but her haze had laid over her like the blanket he had put around her.
“What?” Weakly she rubbed her face, trying to focus on what he had said. He’d offered her something, and she did her best to answer. “Could I please have a glass of water?”
Exhaling softly she focused on him, decent manners winning out. “Did I interrupt you? I-I-’m sorry, I know it’s late.”
