Show me how

Absinth met Aresenn's gaze, her eyes flashing with a mashup of frustration and defiance. She resented the helplessness she felt and hated that he had to see her this way. It was becoming too commonplace, him seeing her at her lowest and still she continued to go lower. “I can’t just rest,” The monochromatic fae snapped, her voice edged with irritation, though not aimed at him in truth. “If I stay still, I’ll go mad.” She huffed, a claw striking out against the ground as she grimaced with another wave of nausea; though it was slowly ebbing now.

She craned her neck, a sigh falling from her lips as she placed her chin against his paw, nuzzling it more forcefully than intended. An apology for her behavior. It wasn’t like her to be moody like this, though she had a penchant for being aggressive; it wasn’t so unprovoked as this. “You know I don’t know how to take it easy. It feels unnatural.” Absinth added, her tone softening but still carrying an undercurrent of discomfort. She could see the worry etched in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched tightly, his insistence that she take better care of herself. She didn’t like that. But she wouldn’t worry him further.

“Distract me.” She conceded grudgingly, leaning into his touch for a moment. “If you really want me to go lay in bed all day. Let me feel like I’m still in control.” She sneered, fully recognizing the stubborn game she was playing; but what else was she supposed to do? She was grateful for his support, but the fact that she needed it at all gnawed at her fiercely. Absinth clenched her teeth, determined not to let her emotions get the better of her. Not now. Not in front of him. But if not him, who else? Conflicting emotions stirred within her, and not all of them were rational. It was all a proper mess of her usually impeccable perceptive mind.

Charcoal tail flicked, eyes narrowing on his features to think less of her illness, but the way he looked… he was bigger somehow. Was he always that tall? A brow quirked as Absinth reached out, pressing her muzzle into his cheek and trailing down to his throat; then his chest. There she buried her face in the fluff, taking a deep breath, drawing comfort from his warmth and his heartbeat. Unspoken affection in the way they did so well. Though she’d be lying if she said she was not feeling a bit of heat flush through her core, which she was ignoring given the circumstances. “I hate feeling this weak,” The woman murmured, low and breathy against his fur. “So keep my mind off of it?” Even if only for a little while.

wormwood