She sat at his little dining table with only one chair. He was alone. He didn’t have family or friends that came to share a meal with him. But he was also attentive. He had plants that were thriving under his care. Not to mention the tea he put together for her had been picked fresh from his little herb garden and she tasted notes of lavender and chamomile. Given to her first thing this morning, this tea was obviously intended to calm her anxiety instead of lull her to sleep.
He was standing at his counter in the process of putting together a different brew for himself, the only sounds in his small kitchenette being the ambience of the metal knife against the wood cutting board, the running water, the clinking of the ceramic tea pot lid against the pot itself. She saw him gather cinnamon and vanilla together from his cabinets. He was brewing for pain relief. Gold to blueberries it was his shoulder giving him trouble. He never talked much of his prosthetic arm but he had shown her his arm when he usually kept it hidden. She still had no idea how it happened. Whether he was aware of it or not, he spent a good amount of time flexing and relaxing the shoulder that held the prosthetic.
All this to say, he was more than attentive. He was watching over her and perceptive to boot. She was observant in her own right and even though neither of them looked directly at one another, she realized that the two of them actually saw each other. Understanding just how naked she was to him left her uneasy, and she sipped from her tea once more.
