~ Don't Judge a Book...~
As she sat next to him, her legs neatly folded under her, he couldn't shake peculiar thoughts. Like how young and fragile she looked. It was like she transformed, or maybe that she had lost her mask, when the barbaric mane (or hood) was taken off.
Without the signature fringes framing her face she looked... well, Aerrow wanted to use the word normal. She didn't look like empress that had been the bane of the Storm Hawks. And then she would say something in the only way that she could, the trademark Cyclonis way, and the shining illusion would disappear for a while, but it always came back.
~ Family Values ~
Some days of the physiotherapy were worse than others, and at the end of those days Aerrow was too tired for anything more than casual conversation.
He got the impression that it suited Cyclonis just fine; sometimes she looked too tired for anything more than casual conversation herself. Maybe it was because they were both so tired that Aerrow had the courage to ask the question he wanted to days earlier.
"How does it work?" She knew what he was referring to.
She subconsciously touched the marks marring her skin; three little holes along the bottom of her collarbone. "Nerves, the spikes connect with the nerves. You control it with your mind, like a muscle. It's a part of you, just like any body part." Apparently Cyclonis was tired enough to answer.
"So anyone could just wear it and that's how it would work?" Aerrow asked next to her. The idea of those spikes entering someone's skin, their body, was sickening.
She shook her head and settled further into the pillows. She had continued taking up a spot on the bed after the first time. "No, you have to start when you're very young, otherwise you won't learn how to manipulate it."
Aerrow gave a concerned look. "How young..."
She shrugged her shoulders. "I've had it for as long as a can remember."
A disgusted face replaced the concern. "Who would do that to a child?"
"My grandmother."
~ Crumbling Boundaries ~
She rubbed the salve across her collarbone, and swept it across the base of her neck. The Doctor always left a little jar behind at the end of her shift, and he made a point of her seeing him doing it. It had a sharp, clean smell, like eucalyptus.
"Doesn't that sting?" Aerrow couldn't help but ask as he watched her knead the salve into her skin.
She was sitting at the opposite side of the bed, her back to him. She turned her head so she could look at him from the corner of her eye. "Does what sting?"
He brushed his fingers across her shoulder blades, a trailing arc below two little holes on either side of her spine (three in the front, two on the back – fives spikes, five little holes). He jumped a little on the inside at the contact. He had expected such an icy, aloof woman to be cool to the touch, but her skin was warm. She just narrowed her eyes before leaning back, hand searching for his side. The palm of her hand rested on where she knew the scar would be.
"Does that hurt?"
Aerrow remembered a similar touch, and how much the light contact had hurt. This time he just felt pressure. And something else. Her fingertips were resting so lightly that it was ticklish.
"No."
She leaned away, twisting the lid back onto the jar, and placed it on the nightstand. Aerrow noted that her hair still skimmed her shoulders, like when she had been younger.
"Well then you have your answer. And, Sky Knight? Touch me again and I'll break your arm."
A/N: It's the weekend once more! It was my goal to be up to chapter 30 before Monday, but I'm not sure it'll happen - you might have to wait two or three long days for another chapter. I work nights on the weekends, and seeing as I typically do most of my writing at night... well yeah. Thought you guys might care to know since you're all so understanding. Cheers! And thanks again for each and everyone of you who takes your time to review.
