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She couldn’t help but flinch at his exclamation–she didn’t know his voice could get that loud, or that he’d react in such a manner. Though…when her gaze shifted back to the various scars and burn markings that she’d collected over the years she could understand, heck, she could even consider his reaction an understatement. It looked horrible.
She hurriedly finished wrapping her leg and her forearm with practiced ease and efficiency, silently berating herself for not locking the door or being louder. She should have prepared for the worst, and as far as things went, this was pretty much the worst.
When he asked where the scars had come from the remaining bandages in her right hand dropped to ground, not making a sound it bounced once, twice, then rolled across the tile floor, unwinding and leaving a trail as it went. How was she going to explain? What was she going to say? She didn’t have the heart to lie to him, but she didn’t want to really go into explaining the sob story that was her life to him.
She fidgeted, nervously pulling on the bandages that she had just wrapped around the arm mere moments ago. She approached Souda, who was standing behind the door, a hesitant expression on her face. “It is nothing to b-be concerned about, I assure you. There is no chance for infection or for them to reopen.” She tried to deflect the question, “How are you? It has b-been a while since I last saw you, Little Brother…!”
His heart was still racing as he waited impatiently for an answer. But there was no response... not even a timid gasp. A wretched tightness seized his stomach even more; he assumed he struck a nerve or insecurity of some sort, women seemed to have a tons of those. He dared not to leave his place or to even turn his head toward the nurse’s direction, the physical barrier of a door served as a comfortable, yet awkward, curtain between them.
Our of the corner of his eye, a long strand of white whisked over the floor. It was the only indicator of her erratic behavior and he didn’t feel any more relief as the dropped roll of bandage rolled silently across the floor without the nurse scurrying over to pick it up. Normally she was clumsy, yes. But never has he seen her falter or “stutter” when performing medical treatment. It just wasn’t like her at all. Not the SHSL Nurse. Not his “older sister”. When the nurse suddenly popped into his peripheral range of vision, he turned his head and gave a startled jump.
“Aaaay, it’s been too, too, too long! Long enough for me to use this thinger’m’bob!” He tried to force a snarky laugh but it only amplified his awkwardness. He lifted the first-aid kit and shook it, a plastic and clunky rattle further reinforced the container’s emptiness.
Curiosity overcame him. So did his tactlessness and lack of pragmatics. He pushed a finger into the bandages of her arm. Sadly, he didn’t give much thought into the implications of his advances. More like he couldn’t realize when to back off -- not especially with a weak remark like that.
“Ya know, I always seen you with these on but I guess I got used to 'em. They’re like your accessory or sum’thing. SOoooo, technically, of course there’s no chance for infection or reopenin’! Ya had these on forever! What’s up with that, eh?”
