She knows it: Torgal will never understand why they are both here, but apart. He will always try to lead one to the other. His pack should not be divided.
And Jill agrees. They shouldn't be apart, but as she sits with Clive now, she hurts. It's like the quiet ache in her joints and bones. Tolerable, for now, but it will catch up to her.
When she looks at him, she focuses on where his injury is hidden beneath matted hair.
Her gaze does properly settle on his face, making eye contact. She thinks she'll walk him back to his place, just to be sure.
"You should bathe before you go. A bath, or a shower at the very least," she tells him. She'd done her best to clean him up last night, but his skin is still stained with blood, hair stiff and sticking out in odd spots. He can't walk down the street like that.
"It's no trouble." It's like that first day she found him here, and one of the first things she did when she brought him to the apartment was make sure he had a bath. There were already cracks in their relationship then, but she'd been so relieved to have him in her arms that she happily ignored them.
Now here they are. Sitting near one another, but she feels worlds away.
"Take your time. I'm not going to hurry you out the door."
"Very well," he says. He'll eat, he'll bathe, he'll go. He takes a bite of the sandwich and it's better than anything he's eaten in weeks. It's clear on his face, the way his eyes flutter closed, the tension breaking on his brow.
Poor man. She remembers the collection of food containers when he first took her back to where he'd been staying. It's his own doing, that he has no one eager to try a new food with him or attempt a recipe, but it still makes her sad. These are things she does now with Dion and P, spending her time with them rather than alone here.
Two people that would probably not approve of her letting him linger now that he's clearly better. And that's precisely why she won't ever mention last night or this morning to them.
"I have some cut fruit if you want more to eat," she offers.
Fruit brightens his expression a little more too. There's been nothing stopping him from purchasing it himself from the convenience stores he frequents when take-out starts to feel too heavy, but it's different, offered from her hand. Even as privileged as they were in their childhoods, fruit was a treat.
But:
"You've done so much for me, Jill, I hesitate to ask for anything more."
The look on his face is answer enough. Jill doesn't smile, but she shakes her head and gets up to go fetch what she offered. She returns with a small bowl of watermelon, pineapple, strawberries, and blueberries. Seasons matter little here when it comes to produce.
She sits and offers him the bowl.
"They're all so sweet, they'll make you feel even better," she says, because it does matter to her that he's in good health.
"You're welcome," she replies, and she wishes watching him eat with such enthusiasm didn't bring her joy, even now. He's rattled her to her very core and still, she yearns to see him happy.
She turns her face to see where Torgal has moved, right outside the bedroom door, still dozing.
He follows her gaze to Torgal. His gangly legs are stretched out, taking up the maximum amount of floor space possible. Clive feels the flicker of a smile.
"We'd never settle them," she murmurs. She can feel his eyes on her, and she looks to him with a faint frown.
"So what I mean to say is... I will take care of you if you're in need. That will never change." She'll tend to his wounds and see he's fed and bathed and hold him when he weeps over Joshua. Always.
Bitterly, he wants to confess to her that he's always in need; he can live without, but that doesn't stop his wants from reaching intensities he cannot deny. But he just nods, and sits forward a little.
"I promise the same in turn. Whatever is within my power, you call call upon me."
Terribly awkward. But sitting alone in the living room, pretending he was not right in her space? Way more awkward.
"Only for Torgal's sake," she says, and the wolf's ears twitch at mention of his name, though his eyes remain closed. "I think he misses all those days out on the road."
Talking about their past is the cornerstone of their relationship. The past, he realizes, is most of what they ever had. He sighs, earnest and fond, missing the people they were profoundly.
"About being on the road?" he repeats, unwilling to let it be confused for anything else. "Camping at night. Nothing but stars above us, time standing still."
That does manage to coax the tiniest of smiles from Jill.
"That was my answer, too. I was always relieved when we were too far out from an inn. We wouldn't have to put on an act just to have a roof over our heads. I much preferred the moon and stars."
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And Jill agrees. They shouldn't be apart, but as she sits with Clive now, she hurts. It's like the quiet ache in her joints and bones. Tolerable, for now, but it will catch up to her.
When she looks at him, she focuses on where his injury is hidden beneath matted hair.
"You should take it easy today."
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"I can manage a walk back to my apartment," he says, and he promises: "No hunting tonight."
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"You should bathe before you go. A bath, or a shower at the very least," she tells him. She'd done her best to clean him up last night, but his skin is still stained with blood, hair stiff and sticking out in odd spots. He can't walk down the street like that.
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"If it's not too much trouble, I'll take a bath," he says. His apartment does not have one.
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Now here they are. Sitting near one another, but she feels worlds away.
"Take your time. I'm not going to hurry you out the door."
She can at least give him that.
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Two people that would probably not approve of her letting him linger now that he's clearly better. And that's precisely why she won't ever mention last night or this morning to them.
"I have some cut fruit if you want more to eat," she offers.
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But:
"You've done so much for me, Jill, I hesitate to ask for anything more."
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She sits and offers him the bowl.
"They're all so sweet, they'll make you feel even better," she says, because it does matter to her that he's in good health.
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"Thank you," he repeats. He's not sure how many times he's said it, but a few more times won't hurt.
He eats with gusto.
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She turns her face to see where Torgal has moved, right outside the bedroom door, still dozing.
"I'm glad you're feeling better, Clive."
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"You take good care of me."
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"No matter how things are between us now, I remember all that you've done for me over the years. The least I can do is see you fed."
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"We've done a lot for each other," he says. "I don't see that as a matter of repayment, or balances owed."
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"So what I mean to say is... I will take care of you if you're in need. That will never change." She'll tend to his wounds and see he's fed and bathed and hold him when he weeps over Joshua. Always.
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"I promise the same in turn. Whatever is within my power, you call call upon me."
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"I will not be going out to get a wound for you to stitch," she replies quietly, but it is a joke.
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Awkward. This is awkward. He pops a piece of pineapple in his mouth and the sting is unexpected but sweet.
"No hunting for you, then, hm?"
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"Only for Torgal's sake," she says, and the wolf's ears twitch at mention of his name, though his eyes remain closed. "I think he misses all those days out on the road."
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But she answers anyway, honestly.
"I do." She took them for granted. "Do you?"
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"All the time."
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"That was my answer, too. I was always relieved when we were too far out from an inn. We wouldn't have to put on an act just to have a roof over our heads. I much preferred the moon and stars."
Everything felt simple.
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SAD, THANKS
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NO.............. that's so sad............
needs to bottle his sweat
basement plan now has different connotations
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that should happen lmao it would be funny
she gets spotted out with clive and then he comes home to a destroyed couch
flawless plans
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