Donavan
- Ingenious Pilot -
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
Posts: 229
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Post by Donavan on Feb 5, 2009 20:46:38 GMT -5
*Her tears were fire on his skin, but not a painful one. A warmth that infused him and gave him strength. And perhaps false hope, but hope nonetheless. His other hand drew up the throw off the couch and over her shoulders. He wanted to tell her that he would never hurt her, that he only lived for her smile, but...he was so afraid. That she'd bolt, that he'd lose her. So he just gave her hand the slightest of squeezes before returning to its neutral position. He needed her to understand that it was ok for her to cry. She could be weak around him. He wouldn't exploit it. But how could he get her to understand?*
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Post by Nance Sikes on Feb 5, 2009 21:33:31 GMT -5
*Nance blinked hard, raising her head a little.*
"I...I'm...I'm just so tired..." *she said in a weak, rough whisper that barely counted as speech.*
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Donavan
- Ingenious Pilot -
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
Posts: 229
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Post by Donavan on Feb 6, 2009 7:12:07 GMT -5
*Donavan nodded, shifting his weight between his knees.*
"It's all right."
*He stood, slipping his hand under hers, offering it to help her stand.* "The bed is made. Sleep as long as you need to."
*His lips tightened, worried that he'd muddle things talking again. This was hard, but...strangely worth it. It had been so long since he'd found anything so fulfilling.*
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Post by Nance Sikes on Feb 6, 2009 15:16:31 GMT -5
*Nance nodded, standing up slowly, needing to lean her weight on his arm for a moment as she steadied herself, but she didn't weight much, anyway. She shut her eyes against the pain and dizziness, shuffling into the bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed to take off her ragged boots before she tucked her feet under the worn but warm blankets, gingerly resting her head on the pillow with a small sigh.*
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Donavan
- Ingenious Pilot -
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
Posts: 229
|
Post by Donavan on Feb 6, 2009 15:36:50 GMT -5
*Donavan saw her to bed dutifully, pouring her a glass of water from the pitcher on the dresser and set it by the bed. His thumb grazed her forehead for only a moment before he lowered the gas in the lamp.*
"Sleep well. Call me if you need anything." *He whispered, so as not to disturb her.*
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Post by Nance Sikes on Feb 6, 2009 18:48:38 GMT -5
"Mmhmm..." *she made a soft noise, already mostly asleep as she turned her face into the pillow.*
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Donavan
- Ingenious Pilot -
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
Posts: 229
|
Post by Donavan on Feb 8, 2009 7:50:39 GMT -5
*Donavan couldn't resist a private smile as he turned to go, leaving the door open just a crack. He cleaned up a bit and settled down on the couch, drawing the tired blanket about him. Her scent hung faintly on it, mixing with its familiar mustiness and comforting him into a peaceful slumber.*
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Post by Nance Sikes on Feb 8, 2009 16:35:00 GMT -5
*The next morning, Nance woke slowly, late in the day. Such quiet, comfort and warmth as she had found in Donovan's bed had lulled her into an unusually long period of rest. She peered at the ceiling, her heart-rate speeding up as she was unaccustomed to waking naturally. It was strange...and yet...her fear did not rise as she had anticipated. After a moment to absorb the eerie quiet and reflect on the situation, a soft smile played about the corners of her mouth.*
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Donavan
- Ingenious Pilot -
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
Posts: 229
|
Post by Donavan on Feb 8, 2009 17:04:06 GMT -5
*Donavan hadn't slept so late, but had woken contented and surprisingly happy for the cramped confines of his couch. He risen and started a simple breakfast of toast and some smoked sausage. He did what he could to keep quiet, but was still beaming as he worked.*
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Post by Nance Sikes on Feb 8, 2009 22:41:45 GMT -5
*Nance appeared in the doorway, moving slowly and with a hunched kind of limp as her ribs still pained her, but she managed a weak smile as she saw Donovan.*
"Good morning," *she said in a sleepy voice, rough around the edges.* "...can...can I help with anything?" *She'd never cooked a thing in her life, but she was eager to repay her debt to this kind man.*
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Donavan
- Ingenious Pilot -
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
Posts: 229
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Post by Donavan on Feb 9, 2009 7:09:18 GMT -5
*Donavan tried to rein in his good mood, in case it would but her off her breakfast, but his smile was still honest.*
"Well, I'm almost finished up. But there's a jar of preserves in that cupboard." *He gestured with the wooden spatula he'd been grilling the toast with.* "If you like strawberries. I'm sorry I didn't have time to get butter or eggs."
*He felt a little bad about it, but he'd have felt worse about her waking to an empty house.*
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Post by Nance Sikes on Feb 9, 2009 12:56:52 GMT -5
"Oh, it...it's fine," *she said quietly, going to the cupboard and taking out the jar. She turned back to face him, holding it as if uncertain what do to with it, now. Her main experience of breakfast was a slug of ale and the cold remains of the previous night's supper. Half a sausage had once been had on a Christmas morning years before, and her mouth still watered at the memory, much less at being faced with a pan of them cooking before her.*
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Donavan
- Ingenious Pilot -
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
Posts: 229
|
Post by Donavan on Feb 9, 2009 14:14:35 GMT -5
*Donavan's brow lifted in a little confusion at her loss, but then nodded towards a drawer in front of her.*
"The few bits of silver I've got are in there." *He smiled hopefully, wishing only to ease her discomfort. He quickly plated the sausage, trying to brown the toast a little more.*
"I hope it's enough." *He offered gently.*
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Post by Nance Sikes on Feb 9, 2009 16:29:39 GMT -5
"It...it's lovely...it's more than--thank you," *she murmured, putting the jar on the small table and going to the drawer, taking out the silver and putting it on the table. It didn't look right in a pile, so she paired off the utensils and laid them side by side, frowning intently at her work as she tried to make it right.*
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Donavan
- Ingenious Pilot -
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
Posts: 229
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Post by Donavan on Feb 10, 2009 7:53:20 GMT -5
*Giving her a few moments to sort out how she wanted things, Donavan plated the fare and carried them to the table, setting hers down in front of her gently.*
"You're most welcome."
*He pulled up the chair he'd moved in from the other room.*
"Are you feeling any better?" *He asked softly, wanting only for her well-being.*
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