shelley_winters | (no subject)

(no subject)

Shelley lifts her sore head.

She can't see the clock, so has no idea how many hours have past.

The girl is still curled at the end of her bed, wrapped in an overlarge black suitcoat. It had been in her wardrobe for months, and now... It's some small comfort.

Her head drops back down onto the blanket as she stares at the wall.

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He left her alone, after she got back. Gave her time to recover.

He hasn't seen her downstairs in days.

Time to stop leaving her alone. So Michael goes upstairs and knocks on Shelley's door.

Shelley shifts slightly and lift her head again, surprised at the knock.

"...Hello?"

Ow. She hasn't used her voice for a while.

"Shelley?"

Oh. Michael.

"Hello."

"Can I come in?"

Bear in mind there's not a lock made that can stay locked if he doesn't want it to, Shelley.

Shelley's used to hanging out with all-powerful men. She'll deal.

There is a long pause while she considers this.

"If you want."

He doesn't make her get up to open the door, just powers the lock open and steps inside.

"Hey."

Shelley looks up at him through tired eyes, still wrapped in the coat.

"'Lo."

"How're you doing?"

Shelley shrugs.

Her head still hurts. She wishes it would stop for five minutes so she could get some proper sleep and maybe forget how upset she is for a bit.

"...that good, huh?"

He wanders into the room and sits on the edge of the bed.

She sighs, and rubs at her eyes.

"What time is is, do you know?"

He shrugs. "Sometime in the afternoon, I didn't see the clock here."

The girl nods. Her expression slightly worried and more than a little confused.

"On... Tuesday?"

Michael eyes her.

"...Wednesday."

"...Oh." She looks down.

"S'hard to tell."

Now he's officially worried.

"You've been in here too long."

She shrugs again, resting her head back down.

"Don't want to go down."

He nods, not wanting to force her.

"How about to the palace? 's quieter there."

Shelley is silent a moment, thinking of the quiet of her room, the lack of necessity to move, and always, at the back of her mind, the possibility that the door might open and Joar might walk in.

But it hurts, and she's tired of that.

"...Okay."

He nods, relieved.

"You want to go now?"

Her gaze wanders to a white flower freshly blooming on her dresser, before she shuts her eyes and nods.

"Please."

He follows her eyes.

"You can bring that if you want."

She nods, and sits up shakily.

It takes a moment before she can stand and reach for the flower.

Michael watches her carefully, ready to catch her if she needs it.

She's wobbly but more or less all right as she glances around the dull-lit room.

The flower is turned gently over and over in her hands as she nods gratefully at him.

Michael eyes the flower, sensing the traces of power on it, but doesn't comment.

"Ready to go?"

Shelley nods silently, reaching to turn off her lamp and nearly clumsily knocking it over.

Michael reaches out telekinetically to steady it.

"Thanks."

"Welcome."

He walks to the door at her side, just in case.

The girl glances back once before finally leaving her room.

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