Shan watched her wash the bloody rag out over the sink, crimson turning a watery pink before splashing down the drain. “All this from a maritime lecture, huh?” Off went the tap and Kyra squeezed the excess water out of the rag. “Here," she said, coming back to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed and balling it up in his fist. "You're still bleeding."
Nice of you to notice. His "thanks" came out hoarse as he put his head down in his hands and pressed the rag to the gash above his eyebrow. He felt the mattress next to him sink down a bit as Kyra sat back next to him; a moment later he felt a light touch on his back. It didn’t convey love or concern or anything of the sort, just the merest memory of it - which sufficed for the moment.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asked him. His response was a sigh and she broke in again, saying: “And don’give me that whole arrogant Kasimov bit, Shan, the little I-feel-no-pain facade."
"Actually Kyra..." He wiped away some of the dried blood that was caked just over his eye and through his hair, feeling the sting of contact with the rough cloth. "Actually, my face feels like it’s in about a million pieces right now."
Kyra pushed herself up and snagged his jacket from where it was thrown carelessly across the table, a black mess of blood and filth. As she turned with it in her arms he glanced up and caught her eye, smiling briefly - pain shot through his jaw. "But of course I feel none of it."
He recieved a terrible look from Kyra but she ignored him. “Do you want me to wash this for you?" she asked, her voice betraying a bit of her impatient pique.
"Oh that would be grand," he muttered into his hands. "But you need to take the medals off first..." He glanced up. "No, no... not like that, from the side. Yeah. And there's a um... the Nival's in the pocket."
She flung his coat back down and set about stripping it of its ornamentation.
"I like you better before you went off to Peremid."
"Of course you did. I was prettier then."
"That too." Fingers pulled his hands down and took the rag out of his hands. "Wait, it needs to be rinsed out again."
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