Who's a Weak Onna?
Chapter 11
Walk, Don't Run
(AN: A reviewer complemented me on my grammar and spelling. I'm flattered. I'd better have good grammar; I'm a teacher's aide. I teach English, Writing, History, and I've taught French. I'm glad it shows. I'll put it on my resume.)
Wufei looked up at the parallel bars in front of him. He handed one crutch to the physical therapist, and put that hand on the bar. Then the other one. He was now suspended with most of his weight on his arms and his good leg. Tentatively, he rested some of his weight on his injured leg.
Sweat rolled down his face, partly from exertion, partly from anticipation, and though he refused to admit it to himself, partly from fear.
"You're doing wonderfully," said David, his physical therapist. David was ginger-haired, muscular and short, he had the lithe but defined and flexible body of a gymnast.
Wufei said nothing. It was taking most of his concentration to stay upright. He was unbelievably weak by his own estimation, after spending almost 3 months mostly in bed. His arms shook and his shoulders ached. It was embarrassing for a former Gundam pilot and a Preventor to be in such wretched physical condition.
"Now, I'm going to stand behind you, Mr. Chang, and I want to try and take a step. Put your weight on your uninjured leg and try to swing your other leg forward."
David had a forced cheerfulness about his manner sometimes that caused Wufei to envision running him through with his katana, just to see what he'd look like with a different expression than that broad professional smile on his face.
But, Wufei had to admit David knew what he was doing. He assumed the manner was something the man had been taught to encourage uninspired patients.
It was wasted on Wufei. He was inspired enough just by the idea of walking again.
He gritted his teeth and swung his injured leg in front of the other. One step and it cost him that much. Pathetic!
"Wonderful, just wonderful!" enthused David. Wufei refrained from giving him a baleful look from under his brows. After all, the man was just doing his job.
"I want to try again," said Wufei, feeling sweat run down his back. He was wearing a white tank top and black shorts, and the top was literally wet with perspiration.
"One more step and you can go home and take a bath," Wufei thought to himself. "Come on, weak onna!" he egged himself on in his thoughts.
"Okay, one more," said David, nodding at him. "I'm certainly impressed with your desire to improve, Mr. Chang."
"Call me Wufei," said Wufei, "After all, I'm going to be working with you 3 times a week."
"I read on your file you were injured in a motorcycle accident," said David. "I had assumed it was in the line of duty you were injured at first."
Wufei shot the man a look from under his arched brow. "Yes, how ironic I survived the war intact only to incapacitate myself recreating." His mouth twisted at the ridiculousness of it all.
"Life does through you some odd curves now and then," said David, predictably cliché.
"Yes," said Wufei, "it does."
Three times a week, the limousine would deposit Wufei at the hospital's physical therapy center, and then 1 hour later, pick him up. That became his existence.
That and seeing Sally.
Two weeks had passed quickly. Although she had her own room at the Winner mansion, she ended up coming to his room most nights and falling asleep next to him in the large, silk covered bed.
There was nothing overtly sexual about the whole arrangement. It was more a matter of pure companionship and comfort. His condition at that point just didn't allow for more. But, it was enough for the time being.
Mostly, they talked, or would lie next to each other quietly, enjoying a few kisses and caresses. Sometimes, Wufei would read to her. She enjoyed the sound of his voice; even if what he was reading wasn't exactly her cup of tea. She was surprised to discover his love of poetry. Predictably, he enjoyed the classics. But one day she caught him reading a really cheesy detective novel, full of overly dramatic descriptions and overblown characters.
"My secret vice," he'd admitted, grinning at her.
"Nice to know you have one," she'd said.
"Who says I have only one?"
She'd laughed at that.
"I suspect you're a secret romantic, too," she'd told him.
"Why?"
"Because you buried Meiran in a field of wildflowers," she'd said, suddenly shy and serious.
He'd looked at her, his sloe eyes suddenly glittering and said, "I have a feeling you're right about that."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning physical therapy session had been particularly difficult today.
Wufei ached in places he'd forgotten existed. He knew he was driving himself to the edge of his limits, and somehow, it felt good. And, it was Sally's day off.
Spending the day with her had become the highlight of his narrow existence.
He'd taken a long bath and was dressed long before she arrived for lunch.
They were going to have lunch alone in the sunroom. It was like being outside, in that one whole side of the room was windows. A gentle breeze passed through the screens, propelled by quiet rotating fans on the ceiling.
Sally came in, smiling at him.
He gave her a quick appraisal. The warm royal blue she wore seemed to set off her bright blue almond eyes, and golden brown hair. She was wearing a simple silk dress with a high Mandarin style collar, a shift with short sleeves that subtly hugged the curves of her body. It had slits that reached to mid thigh. The legs revealed thusly were slim, with defined muscles.
She never wore high heels, Wufei noted. He'd mentioned it once and she'd merely said she'd never gotten used to wearing them.
She came over to him and bending from the waist, kissed him lightly on the mouth.
"Have a good day today?" she asked.
"It just improved tremendously."
She nodded. "For me too."
"I have a surprise for you."
Sally raised her brows expectantly, sitting down in a chair across from him a few feet.
"Sit and watch," he said.
He reached around behind his chair and revealed a cane. Sally's eyebrows raised a bit higher and she clenched the arms of the chair in anticipation.
Wufei stood, leaning heavily on the cane and slowly took a step. Then another, standing and panting a bit, then finally stood in front of her. She stood up and put her arms around him, and he leaned heavily on her.
She held him tightly.
"That was a surprise," she whispered in his ear. Her voice was unsteady.
"I'm glad you liked it," he whispered back, nuzzling the side of her neck.
She pulled back and their eyes met and locked.
"I need to help you back to your chair," she said suddenly, feeling him sag against her.
He nodded. "I think you'd better." His leg was beginning to tremble from the strain of standing, although most of his weight was on his uninjured limb.
She put her arm around his back and slowly, they walked the few steps back to his seat.
Isabel came in with a large tray containing their lunch. "Enjoy," she said, placing it on the wicker and glass table and discreetly leaving.
The food never tasted better.
Chapter 11
Walk, Don't Run
(AN: A reviewer complemented me on my grammar and spelling. I'm flattered. I'd better have good grammar; I'm a teacher's aide. I teach English, Writing, History, and I've taught French. I'm glad it shows. I'll put it on my resume.)
Wufei looked up at the parallel bars in front of him. He handed one crutch to the physical therapist, and put that hand on the bar. Then the other one. He was now suspended with most of his weight on his arms and his good leg. Tentatively, he rested some of his weight on his injured leg.
Sweat rolled down his face, partly from exertion, partly from anticipation, and though he refused to admit it to himself, partly from fear.
"You're doing wonderfully," said David, his physical therapist. David was ginger-haired, muscular and short, he had the lithe but defined and flexible body of a gymnast.
Wufei said nothing. It was taking most of his concentration to stay upright. He was unbelievably weak by his own estimation, after spending almost 3 months mostly in bed. His arms shook and his shoulders ached. It was embarrassing for a former Gundam pilot and a Preventor to be in such wretched physical condition.
"Now, I'm going to stand behind you, Mr. Chang, and I want to try and take a step. Put your weight on your uninjured leg and try to swing your other leg forward."
David had a forced cheerfulness about his manner sometimes that caused Wufei to envision running him through with his katana, just to see what he'd look like with a different expression than that broad professional smile on his face.
But, Wufei had to admit David knew what he was doing. He assumed the manner was something the man had been taught to encourage uninspired patients.
It was wasted on Wufei. He was inspired enough just by the idea of walking again.
He gritted his teeth and swung his injured leg in front of the other. One step and it cost him that much. Pathetic!
"Wonderful, just wonderful!" enthused David. Wufei refrained from giving him a baleful look from under his brows. After all, the man was just doing his job.
"I want to try again," said Wufei, feeling sweat run down his back. He was wearing a white tank top and black shorts, and the top was literally wet with perspiration.
"One more step and you can go home and take a bath," Wufei thought to himself. "Come on, weak onna!" he egged himself on in his thoughts.
"Okay, one more," said David, nodding at him. "I'm certainly impressed with your desire to improve, Mr. Chang."
"Call me Wufei," said Wufei, "After all, I'm going to be working with you 3 times a week."
"I read on your file you were injured in a motorcycle accident," said David. "I had assumed it was in the line of duty you were injured at first."
Wufei shot the man a look from under his arched brow. "Yes, how ironic I survived the war intact only to incapacitate myself recreating." His mouth twisted at the ridiculousness of it all.
"Life does through you some odd curves now and then," said David, predictably cliché.
"Yes," said Wufei, "it does."
Three times a week, the limousine would deposit Wufei at the hospital's physical therapy center, and then 1 hour later, pick him up. That became his existence.
That and seeing Sally.
Two weeks had passed quickly. Although she had her own room at the Winner mansion, she ended up coming to his room most nights and falling asleep next to him in the large, silk covered bed.
There was nothing overtly sexual about the whole arrangement. It was more a matter of pure companionship and comfort. His condition at that point just didn't allow for more. But, it was enough for the time being.
Mostly, they talked, or would lie next to each other quietly, enjoying a few kisses and caresses. Sometimes, Wufei would read to her. She enjoyed the sound of his voice; even if what he was reading wasn't exactly her cup of tea. She was surprised to discover his love of poetry. Predictably, he enjoyed the classics. But one day she caught him reading a really cheesy detective novel, full of overly dramatic descriptions and overblown characters.
"My secret vice," he'd admitted, grinning at her.
"Nice to know you have one," she'd said.
"Who says I have only one?"
She'd laughed at that.
"I suspect you're a secret romantic, too," she'd told him.
"Why?"
"Because you buried Meiran in a field of wildflowers," she'd said, suddenly shy and serious.
He'd looked at her, his sloe eyes suddenly glittering and said, "I have a feeling you're right about that."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning physical therapy session had been particularly difficult today.
Wufei ached in places he'd forgotten existed. He knew he was driving himself to the edge of his limits, and somehow, it felt good. And, it was Sally's day off.
Spending the day with her had become the highlight of his narrow existence.
He'd taken a long bath and was dressed long before she arrived for lunch.
They were going to have lunch alone in the sunroom. It was like being outside, in that one whole side of the room was windows. A gentle breeze passed through the screens, propelled by quiet rotating fans on the ceiling.
Sally came in, smiling at him.
He gave her a quick appraisal. The warm royal blue she wore seemed to set off her bright blue almond eyes, and golden brown hair. She was wearing a simple silk dress with a high Mandarin style collar, a shift with short sleeves that subtly hugged the curves of her body. It had slits that reached to mid thigh. The legs revealed thusly were slim, with defined muscles.
She never wore high heels, Wufei noted. He'd mentioned it once and she'd merely said she'd never gotten used to wearing them.
She came over to him and bending from the waist, kissed him lightly on the mouth.
"Have a good day today?" she asked.
"It just improved tremendously."
She nodded. "For me too."
"I have a surprise for you."
Sally raised her brows expectantly, sitting down in a chair across from him a few feet.
"Sit and watch," he said.
He reached around behind his chair and revealed a cane. Sally's eyebrows raised a bit higher and she clenched the arms of the chair in anticipation.
Wufei stood, leaning heavily on the cane and slowly took a step. Then another, standing and panting a bit, then finally stood in front of her. She stood up and put her arms around him, and he leaned heavily on her.
She held him tightly.
"That was a surprise," she whispered in his ear. Her voice was unsteady.
"I'm glad you liked it," he whispered back, nuzzling the side of her neck.
She pulled back and their eyes met and locked.
"I need to help you back to your chair," she said suddenly, feeling him sag against her.
He nodded. "I think you'd better." His leg was beginning to tremble from the strain of standing, although most of his weight was on his uninjured limb.
She put her arm around his back and slowly, they walked the few steps back to his seat.
Isabel came in with a large tray containing their lunch. "Enjoy," she said, placing it on the wicker and glass table and discreetly leaving.
The food never tasted better.