[ She makes an indecipherable sound of annoyance, before reaching over and picking the bowl up. She brings it to her lips and just starts chugging the whole thing down, burnt tongue be damned .
When the bowl is done she slams it down onto the night stand. ]
There! Now fuck off!
[ And then she turns over and pulls the covers over her head AGAIN. ]
as she sticks one hand out from under the covers, retrieves the glass, empties it (while still under the covers) and then flings it at his head (from under the covers) ]
[ There is a briefest flicker of surprise, maybe fear– it's hard to tell. She doesn't think she's felt the latter in a long time. But she gathers herself, a tightly coiled ball of quiet anger as she sits up and takes the glass. ]
Men really don't give a fuck about anything except making themselves feel better about the shitty things they do, no matter what world you're in.
[ She downs the glass, and slams it down onto the night stand. And when she speaks again she shouts, like an angry child who has long since expended what little patience they have. ]
Now get the fuck out–!
[ She doesn't care enough to see that through though. She buries herself under the blankets again before the threat has even finished leaving her mouth. ]
[ he does not respond. not because he is hurt, or angry, or moved — but because there are some thoughts that are better heard than changed, and this is one of them.
she burrows herself back into the blankets. he does not heed her request. instead, he simply returns to his seat and continues to work.
when she wakes up, he will be there. unmoving, just as he said. ]
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And then she mutters something incomprehensible, and turns over, pulling the covers over her head. ]
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[ he shuffles around the room, returning back to his seat. ]
Don't sleep yet. You need to finish your soup before it goes cold.
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What? Are you gonna sit there all night?
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When the bowl is done she slams it down onto the night stand. ]
There! Now fuck off!
[ And then she turns over and pulls the covers over her head AGAIN. ]
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as she sticks one hand out from under the covers, retrieves the glass, empties it (while still under the covers) and then flings it at his head (from under the covers) ]
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nier stands up. wordlessly, he walks out of the room.
and returns with yet another glass of water, before setting it down next to her. ]
Do you want to get better?
[ there is no gentleness to his voice this time. ]
Then drink it. Your body can't fight the sickness without hydration.
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I don't care if I do or don't– neither should you.
[ The covers are still pulled up over her head, so it comes out muffled but audible. ]
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I care. I don't care if you don't, but I do. So drink it.
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Men really don't give a fuck about anything except making themselves feel better about the shitty things they do, no matter what world you're in.
[ She downs the glass, and slams it down onto the night stand. And when she speaks again she shouts, like an angry child who has long since expended what little patience they have. ]
Now get the fuck out–!
[ She doesn't care enough to see that through though. She buries herself under the blankets again before the threat has even finished leaving her mouth. ]
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she burrows herself back into the blankets. he does not heed her request. instead, he simply returns to his seat and continues to work.
when she wakes up, he will be there. unmoving, just as he said. ]