He's relieved that she doesn't have to feel the pain of the bone being set, and that she falls asleep. She won't die. She will be okay. She's a strong woman. This won't phase her for long.
For a little while he's nervous that the nurses will ask him questions or bring in some kind of investigator, but they don't. They let her sleep because she obviously needs it. It's late, too. If there is an ordeal with the law, it will come tomorrow.
He holds onto her arm still, watching her as she sleeps. Eventually, he sits back in the chair and nods off as well, his head falling forward and to the side. Periodically, he wakes and gazes at her for a minute before falling asleep again. Until he wakes and she's also awake. He leans forward again, his hand going back to the uninjured part of her arm, stroking it gently.
She was surprised, but clearly not displeased if the way she smiled at him was any indication. There was a softness to it that could easily be blamed on her still being half doped up on painkillers, but not all of it. A part of her was genuinely happy to see him still there - glad he hadn't wandered off to do something stupid or wallow in misery alone. That she hadn't been left alone.
"Hi." She slurred, nose crinkling. God damn her mouth was dry. "Wild fucking night, huh?" Was it night? She had no fucking idea. "You okay?"
"Water. I feel like I've been eating sand." She said once her brain started to catch up, body shifting to instinctively rise and finding that doing so was actually absurdly difficult. "Ugh." Not being able to move was going to drive her crazy, she could already tell.
Jeritza experimentally presses a button on the bed that he had been examining while she was asleep for lack of anything better to do. It begins to lift the bed into a sitting position. Nice. Turns out he's not as hopeless with technology as he thought. Slowly the bed rises her to sitting, and then he leaves the room and asks a nurse for a cup of water.
Will wonders never cease. Nina raised her brows up, impressed by the movement, and adjusted as best she could on the bed. Her arm in a sling and her acid burned hand wrapped fairly tight, even her overconfident ass had to admit the truth.
"I... don't think so." She offered, aware enough to blush. This was going to be fucking embarrassing, having him baby her.
Some small part of him feels proud that he impressed her, even with something so small. How silly and strange.
He steps a little closer and leans toward her, holding the cup to her lips. He watches the water level carefully as he tips the cup, as the last thing he wants to do is dump it on her. He allows her to take a few small sips. Staring at her lips reminds him of their kiss, and absently he wonders if that might ever happen again.
Shockingly, only a small dribble of water managed to escape her lips, the rest she tried to eagerly swallow back. When he pulled the glass back, she looked up at him, smiled again.
"See something you like?" She laughed. "My face get fucked up too?"
"Ha!" She snorted out a laugh, one that lasted a touch longer than it needed to. Blame it on the drugs making her loopy. "Good. Glad he steered clear of the moneymaker."
If she didn't joke about it she would absolutely cry and she had done far too much of that already.
He still looks confused, but she's obviously pleased, so it's fine by him. Her calling him adorable and "big guy" makes his stomach feel strange. His heart beats a little faster the way it did when they kissed.
"Good that you enjoy it," he says, almost smiling but not quite. He puts the water to her mouth again.
"Don't say that." Her voice wasn't as hard as she would have liked, her insistence mitigated by the drugs and, if she was honest, genuine fear that he might somehow let that happen instead. "People will start looking for you if strangers end up dead. You could be seen - they'll come back and tell everyone who killed them. It's not worth it."
Death isn't permanent? Hm... So execution would not be the punishment. But his victims could come back, and if they remembered him, could easily sully his reputation. He hasn't seen jails in this city, but crime is obviously frowned upon in every district but wrath, and murder is even frowned upon within wrath by the common people who aren't part of the combatants or that blood-drinking clan. He knows people can be banned from establishments. And, there is the issue of powerful people coming to get revenge, and bringing powerful friends... Death isn't permanent, but injury clearly lasts.
He sighs, rubs his forehead. What a mess...
"He was angry with you. He does not like to be bested, and he is prideful... You made him feel threatened. The severity of this torture was fuelled by rage and vengeance. Perhaps if you work out a way to get along with him, you could agree on some less extreme forms of pain... Or negotiate some way for him to satiate himself more constructively..."
He thinks for another moment.
"I can also talk to him... And there is a man I met, who offered to help me... A counsellor."
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For a little while he's nervous that the nurses will ask him questions or bring in some kind of investigator, but they don't. They let her sleep because she obviously needs it. It's late, too. If there is an ordeal with the law, it will come tomorrow.
He holds onto her arm still, watching her as she sleeps. Eventually, he sits back in the chair and nods off as well, his head falling forward and to the side. Periodically, he wakes and gazes at her for a minute before falling asleep again. Until he wakes and she's also awake. He leans forward again, his hand going back to the uninjured part of her arm, stroking it gently.
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"Hi." She slurred, nose crinkling. God damn her mouth was dry. "Wild fucking night, huh?" Was it night? She had no fucking idea. "You okay?"
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"Hi. Yes, I am fine. What do you need?"
Because she must need something. Food, water, painkillers, something. He will get it.
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Returning to her bedside, he asks:
"Can you hold it?"
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"I... don't think so." She offered, aware enough to blush. This was going to be fucking embarrassing, having him baby her.
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He steps a little closer and leans toward her, holding the cup to her lips. He watches the water level carefully as he tips the cup, as the last thing he wants to do is dump it on her. He allows her to take a few small sips. Staring at her lips reminds him of their kiss, and absently he wonders if that might ever happen again.
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"See something you like?" She laughed. "My face get fucked up too?"
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"Ah..." He blinks. "No, your face is... Good," he says awkwardly.
... What?
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If she didn't joke about it she would absolutely cry and she had done far too much of that already.
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"You make money with your face?"
How does that work...?
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"It's-" she laughed. "It's a joke. I was suggesting my face is what people would pay for if I was a whore."
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"A whore? You are not a whore..."
Yeah, that's the joke, Jeritza...
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"Yeah, big guy. That's why it's funny." She snorted. "Gods. You're adorable."
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"Good that you enjoy it," he says, almost smiling but not quite. He puts the water to her mouth again.
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Her bandaged hand shifted to rest over his as the glass was moved back once more. "Are you upset with me?"
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He isn't sure if she means about the joke or in general, but either way the answer is the same.
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"I don't know. You were so upset when you found me, I was just wondering if I went too far."
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Jeritza is hard to read, incredibly so.
"He went too far. You allowed it... But I cannot control what you do... I have tried. You are too stubborn. I just don't want this to happen again..."
As horrible as it sounds, he would prefer a stranger getting hurt to Nina, not that that made it right...
What a mess. He has no idea how to get out of it.
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"I would rather he killed a stranger than did this to you..."
It's the truth, might as well say it. He's grown numb to the bodies of strangers. Seeing Nina hurt makes him feel hurt. And scared.
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"I would rather take the punishment of being caught than have you tortured indefinitely..."
Talk about not worth it. Jeritza has always been waiting for punishment. It wouldn't be a tragedy.
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He sighs, rubs his forehead. What a mess...
"He was angry with you. He does not like to be bested, and he is prideful... You made him feel threatened. The severity of this torture was fuelled by rage and vengeance. Perhaps if you work out a way to get along with him, you could agree on some less extreme forms of pain... Or negotiate some way for him to satiate himself more constructively..."
He thinks for another moment.
"I can also talk to him... And there is a man I met, who offered to help me... A counsellor."
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can wrap soon ithinks
yuh we can end here