milliways_bar | (no subject)

Rae startles involuntarily when her bedroom door dumps her into the bar instead of in her hallway, flinching back and squinting her eyes nearly shut at the sudden light. She has the disoriented, dazed appearance of one having woken suddenly from a nightmare, unconscious of her appearance in her pink and yellow pajama pants and camisole. All that really fogs through to Rae at the moment is that here, she won't have to go through all the trouble of making the cup of tea she'd been seeking.

Her hands wrap around the mug given to her by the bar, lifting it so she might breathe in the fragrant steam of lavender and lemongrass. Comforting smells, comforting tastes, worlds away from those that had interrupted her sleep.

Her eyes, plagued by her Dark Sight, are slow to adjust to the brightness of the bar, so Rae makes her unsteady way half-blind - stumbling once or twice on a chair-leg - to the couch by the fireplace. There she curls up with her tea, tired eyes shut as she bathes in the warmth and light, the human sounds and smells. Grounding herself.

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The exhausted baker huffs out a slight laugh - she does know what coriander is.

"Thank you for explaining their meanings, and for the lovely message," she grins, leaning to place a light kiss on his cheek. "It was very sweet of you to think of me."

She will definitely be making an arrangement for him, in return.

Autor leans into the kiss, pleased that she's happy with it. "I happened to be in the greenhouse with someone and remembered that there was a language of flowers, that's all," Autor says, uncharacteristically modest.

He moves his right arm to adjust his glasses, and regrets it immediately, with a soft, "Ah."

"Well, spur-of-the-moment or not, I'm still glad you thought of me," Rae says, smiling faintly. It helps. It really does. Anything to ground her in the now, lovely smells of flowers and tea, and tea with a friend.

"Tell me you've had someone in the infirmary take a look at your arm," she says after seeing him wince again. "You didn't break it, did you?"

"Good," Autor says, and leans forward to kiss her cheek.

"Oh! Er. I did, actually, but it was a clean break," Autor says, twiddling his thumbs. "Guppy fixed it with the bone fuser."

He clears his throat. "A-And I also had a concussion but that cleared up pretty well. The bruise on my face is gone, thank goodness. No permanent scars."

"I leave for a few days and you go breaking things," she says, mild incredulity lacing every word. "And you insist on me not worrying about you."

As though that would ever happen.

"They fixed you up but you're still hurting?"

"I should only be sore for a week," Autor says, holding up his left hand. "Really! I'm fine. I'm lucky, but fine. I broke it here, which means I don't have to wait weeks for it to heal. And it's not like I broke my neck, anyhow."

"Don't even joke about that," Rae says, chidingly, even as she leans against him. Why do such worrisome things, Autor?

"I could help it along, if you'd like," she offers, tiredly. "So you don't have to put up with it being sore for so long."

Autor leans back, quiet for a while. He didn't think he was joking; he really does feel lucky. And breaking an arm isn't so bad, really, especially given that he could have easily broken his neck. He did hit his head. He sighs. Sometimes he doesn't get Rae.

He perks up at her offer, though. "Ooh. That would help," he murmurs. "But are you sure? Wouldn't that wear you out?"

Rae knows that face. Her lips thin in mild exasperation, but she doesn't give in to the impulse to ask, Would you want me joking about it, if I had broken my arm doing something I admitted was stupid?

"Oh, I'm already worn out," she reminds him, instead. "A little more won't hurt. Might even help me get back to sleep."

Autor knows her face, too, and he furrows his brow at her exasperation. There are words unsaid here, and he knows the situation won't be helped by a just as exasperated, What, Rae?

He lets it drop, and focuses on her offer. "If you're sure," he says quietly. "Thank you. I owe you. Again. Should I hold out my arm?"

"You don't owe me anything," she reminds him, smiling faintly as she admits, "Though I wouldn't say no to a second cup of tea."

"Let me hold onto your hand - that will be enough."

"Tea it is then," Autor says, inclining his head. With a small wince at moving his arm, he places his hand in hers and squeezes her fingers. "Thanks, Rae."

It may be a familiar feeling by now, the warmth slowly spreading from her hand and up through his arm, the healing magic seeking the remnants of the break, and the lingering soreness and pain. The warmth engulfs them like the water of a bath, easing away aches and pains into nothing but an quiet sense of well-being.

Edited 2014-11-25 06:50 (UTC)

Autor closes his eyes while she works her magic. A sigh escapes him when the warmth does, and the muscles of his face and shoulders relax in stages. He's very aware of his beating heart, and his eased breath; he didn't realize how tense his shoulder was from holding still until she healed him. He smiles softly, growing more and more at ease.

She checks for any other signs of injury or stress, while she's at it. Any faint, lingering aches from the concussion or soreness in his back or limbs from the fall, they fade away.

When the power retreats again, Rae looks faintly pale with effort, exhaustion clear on her face.

Autor did have a lingering headache and backache, but her magic washes over him, warming him, and lifting his pain away. He feels he could float right off the couch, though her hand clutching his anchors him.

The boy opens his eyes with a soft, grateful smile, which fades when he sees how worn out she is. "Ah," he says quietly, cupping her cheek in his hand. "Thank you, Rae." He has a question to ask her, and that probably shows on his face, but her health is more important. "Ready for a nap?"

"Think I might be," her words are indistinct and heavy. Almost as heavy as her head seems to be.

"Yeah," she reaffirms. Naps are in the cards, as it were, but first things first. "How are you feeling?"

Autor stretches, enjoying the full range of motion of his arm again. He'd like to mention Ava to her, but Rae seems too tired to even want to deal with anything remotely related to Dr. Lecter right now.

He leans forward and kisses her on the cheek. "I feel wonderful. Thank you, Rae," he says warmly. "C'mon, I'll take you to your room on my carpet."

Rae lets her eyes fall shut, and smiles at the kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you." She really appreciates the offer, completely sure she'd be unable to make it up the stairs without having to sit down again.

But that is what friends do, right? You help your friends if you can, and they will help you in return.