shelley_winters | (no subject)

(no subject)

Heat from the water soaks through her skin - real heat, not the strange almost burning of being healed. Shelley lies back reluctantly as he puts her gently down in the water, white foam thankfully covering the surface. One small hand grips the side tensely as the other splashes a moment, before bringing out the ridiculous scrap of gold-shimmering gauze, now sodden with water, and throwing it as hard as she can onto the floor.

It takes a shaky sigh as she turns her head away again before she glances back at Ishamael, noticing him more clearly than before. And more to the point, the fact that he is still here.

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Shelley rests her forehead down on her knees, squeezing her arms harder around herself, and doesn't answer. She doesn't need anything from him. Doesn't need him.

His arm tightened snugly around her as he commented quietly.

"You will need to get to sleep soon. You have had a very trying time."

Shelley nods in silence. Sleeping would be easiest, maybe, providing he intends to let her get up any time soon. She sits up slowly, attempting to nudge his arm away before trying to stand.

As she moved, he stood up and offered a hand to help her up. He doubted she would take it, but... It never hurt to be kind. In this case, anyway.

Shelley tries to ignore it at first, struggling to push herself up from the floor, but her arm shakes, and she can't hold the towel on as well. Grudgingly she reaches out to take it, not looking up at him.

Carefully, he pulled her to her feet and placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"Most of the rooms in the house have yet to be thoroughly examined and cleaned. You will have to stay here for tonight."

If he hadn't already steadied her, she would have swayed on her feet. If possible, she is even more tired than when she sat down, but she doesn't want to stay with him, not again. Face taut and unhappy, she doesn't move.

Ishamael commented quietly, but not without the slightest touch of a smile on his face.

"I understand if you do not want to wear anything when you sleep. Some find that very liberating."

Slowly, he turned his back to her.

"I will turn around if it makes you feel better."

She turns completely white at the reminder of... of everything, hot tears stinging her eyes. Silently, Shelley turns around, and walks as quickly as she can the other way, shaking still from the cold, but with the growing heat of anger. She hates him, hates him, hates him.

She feels sick.

Ishamael did not turn around. As she slipped off, the sound of footsteps did not accompany her.

If Shelley had turned around, then she would have found the corridor empty.

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