The need to feel that you're alright

She acquiesced to his demand with no fuss, and he moved through the storage room. Rummaging about until he had grabbed a coat, a bowl of water and a soft sponge, as well as some clean bandages. He started with the coat. He ran it through her coat until it was dry enough that he could see her body more easily. Running it down her back, down each leg. Slowly, carefully. Up her stomach, around the nap of her neck. A far cry from the roughness he had treated her with back in the cave. He didn’t meet her eyes as he worked.

Drying her allowed him to examine her body, and he had a good idea where to start when he grabbed the bowl. He dipped the sponge in the water and brushed it across a cut on her back leg. Just lightly enough to remove the blood that had crusted there. Once he was sure the wound was clear, he wrapped the bandage around it. It was shallow, and the bandage was perhaps overkill, but he was taking his time with her.

He found another cut, and the treatment was the same as the first. Then he saw to her bruises. Water and bandages would do nothing for them, but no matter. He had another treatment. He leaned down, and pressed his lips to the bruise, then licked it slowly. Dragging his tongue from one side of the bruise to the other in slow motion. If she could feel his heartbeat, she would know it gave lie to the slow and steady movements he made. He treated the bruises around her front first, then made his way to the one up her back leg. He pressed his lips to this one, as well.


"Speech"