Saying things had returned to normal after our day out would be a lie. The changes were minute but noticeable to me.

I had gotten used to not having access to patting Sylvie on command. While I know I could do that, I feel like it'd shatter the fragile trust she had placed in me to not hurt her.

After our visit to that lovely shop, Sylvie… hadn't exactly relaxed, but the taut tension in her shoulders had visibly lessened

She still does her daily chores: washing dishes, preparing the table, and such. She doesn't stutter as often, nor does she panic at every instance of me calling her name, but the distance was still there, however lessened it might have been.

Appointments were made and dealt with appropriately, Sylvie, now bearing proper clothes, can now act in full view of whoever happens to show up. It's not that I was ashamed of her per se, but it would be improper to have her around people in nothing more than a rag.

"I'm done with the dishes Master."

Something I had tried getting used to was visibly emoting. It was a habit that I developed specifically for delivering distressing non-verbal encouragement would work better than anything I'd say, not exactly phrasing my thoughts and opinions in the best way. That's not to say I hadn't verbally praised her for her efforts but rather I wanted to be a bit more genuine with my words and feelings rather than saying everything that came to mind.

"Nice work." I said giving her a (hopefully) encouraging smile and gentle headpats.

Headpatting became a reward for both me and her. The long draught of not having another person nearby had once again lessened. It had lasted moments unlike the times where it felt like I could go on for hours. Sylvie still had no real reaction to it though I'm sure if I looked close enough I could see an upward tilt on her mouth slightly resembling a smile.

"You… like strange things don't you?" she mumbles quietly. I'm not entirely sure I was meant to hear that, yet I responded anyway

"I don't think so." I stopped my pats and gave her some space. "This gives me a feeling of warmth. It helps that your hair is pretty soft."

"I don't think my hair is that pretty." She would twiddle her thumbs extremely nervous, or was it shy to admit to her true feelings. "But this feels… good?"

And it was how our days would play out… breakfast, appointments, lunch, cleaning, and then dinner.

It wasn't much more fulfilling than my time without her. But it filled the void of silence whenever I was by myself.

Why did the Master take me in?

It was a question that always made itself known to me at night when going to bed.

It haunted me during my early days with him. He simply fed me, and left me to my own devices, which ended up being my reading sessions whenever he wasn't looking. The other times he spent simply patting my head either in reassurance or to comfort himself.

I feared the days where headpats wouldn't be enough.

I hadn't told him about the nightmares. Ones where I'd be molested without hesitation. I would be wearing that one piece rag and my voice wouldn't come out to ask him why as my body came down with an uncontrollable fever. No matter how hard I cried or silently begged him to stop, he kept touching, uncaring of how much I burnt up, before eventually stealing away my virginity.

It wasn't particularly violent but painful, and it made my position clear. I was to pleasure him whenever it suited him.

Yet that day never came. Surely he knew about how I felt, and still I feared for that day. That fear was tagged along with the question…

Why did he take me in?

I'm grateful that he took me in but the way I'm living here is just as terrifying. I have no idea if this is a dream or a nightmare waiting to happen.

In my haste I nearly asked him. In a bout of fear and uncertainty, I hadn't asked the question that plagued me. It was a more selfish request.

"Will I have another opportunity to accompany you when you go shopping?" I blurted out suddenly before blushing at how spoiled the question was. Though I had never gone out like that before and… it made me happy. It was no excuse to behave in such a manner.

He blinked in surprise. "Sure, I won't be meeting up with anyone and we don't have any appointments this coming Tuesday."

The master doesn't meet many people outside of work. Describing his relationships as distant friends and close acquaintances. Another thing that has me a bit curious. I didn't mention it last time as he had deemed it important for me to have proper clothing… "Won't you stand out when we go out together like this?"

"You mean, because of your scars?" I nodded at his honest inquiry.

"I wouldn't really mind the extra attention. I might even be scorned a bit for letting you out with your appearance." He frowned not quite looking at me, but a memory I could not see. "There are some things that, even as a doctor, I can't prevent. Maybe makeup would cover up your wounds, but I've never really been a fan of forcing others to do that."

As I thought, there really are some things doctors cannot make disappear.

Before the day we were to go shopping... the fever from my dreams came to pass.

He noticed right away the moment I showed a hint of a cough.

"You look paler than usual today. Are you feeling alright?"

I'm sorry… It seems like I might have caught a slight cold."

A quick temperature check of her forehead proved it was a really high fever. A far cry from a slight cold.

"Go lay back down in your bed, I'll get you some medicine and some easy to digest soup."

She looked ready to argue, but I wasn't going to be passive on this issue. Leveling a stern glare that I reserved for petulant patients I repeated myself. "Bed. Go. Now."

Even if it was Sylvie, I wouldn't hesitate to manhandle her if she was going to be stubborn about taking care of her health. Making sure her mental health wasn't in tatters was fine, but I'd also like for her to be alive to have mental health and a cold can easily take her life if we're not careful.

"You don't have to do all this for me Master." Even as hot as I felt or the hazy cloud that hung over my mind and thoughts. I didn't want to leave myself in a position to reenact that nightmare.

"Nonsense. You're clearly sick, and even if it's a small cold I don't want to let it deteriorate into something worse." His eyes became cold again, not allowing room for argument. Cold eyes that bore into me intensely and without reprieve. "Put on the scrubs, we don't want to ruin your clothes.

I felt something bad would happen if I did not cooperate. He allowed me enough privacy to change but when I finished he immediately reentered the room.

I laid there hesitant squirming under the heat of the blanket. The circumstances were different yet I remained wary, as futile as that might have been. The gravity of it all felt stifling and light labored breaths left me feeling even more lightheaded.

The Doctor… My Master came back sooner than I expected with a cold moist towel in hand that he applied to my forehead after wiping up a bit of accumulated sweat.

"My colds have never lasted very long, so I should be fine soon."

"I won't be leaving you until I'm sure you're okay. I'd rather not argue with you on this point." His stern glare somehow became harsher. "You have already dealt with your malnutrition and a drastic change in living conditions might have caused some issues, but rest and recovery is what you need. You'll recover because I'll take care of you. I won't accept any other solution."

From there it was a haze. I don't remember what really happened. 4 days had passed, and I hardly remembered much of anything. The cold cloth eventually became warm lying atop my head before it was soon replaced and the cool feeling returned once more. The soup was… unremarkable. Whether because it was lacking in taste or because I couldn't taste was something I would not know.

What matters is by the 5th day, I could see clearly. Organize my own thoughts and recognize time passing.

The door opened and the doctor had only one thing to say.

"How are you feeling today?"

"I feel fine now." I moved, sluggish it may have been but it was progress. Along with a missing fever. "I feel like I can help with housework again."

"No you won't." He said immediately pushing me back to bed. "I'll give you one more day of rest before I'll allow you to even think about working again.

I had the feverish dream again, for once the fever that had accompanied it was lessened. It still terrified me the idea of him taking it away.

But then it felt…

…

"No it isn't right." I spoke aloud in my dream for once as he increased his pace.

The warmth, the feelings it wasn't right and yet he went faster uncaring to how confounding it is. How wrong it was. How right it felt.

Something inside me continued to rise. It was a feeling I dreaded and anticipated and Master's pace increased the farther along it came.

And then…

I woke up. Untouched, with my clothes off to the side, clean and crisp.

I will have to do laundry soon. The sweat was easily visible.

With Sylvie awake and her fever completely gone, I allowed her to continue her chores.

Though I still had my concerns she was pretty adamant about returning to her work. And for once there wasn't much fear in her steps. It was quite obvious she was no longer the pale little thing practically sold to me by a rather unsavory individual. She wasn't as pale or thin, nor was she ashen white but a pale cream.

There was a sort of… light in her eyes. When we first met she was small, fragile and had no life whatsoever in any of her movements. A marionette puppeted by the wants and desires of those who owned her. But now she moves semi-autonomously along with the wants and needs of any human being. On the few shopping tips we've been on we've managed to gather enough clothing to satisfy her bare minimum needs, and yet she asked to go out again and more often.

There was trust, and that trust had grown ever so slightly, enough to lead to the events of the first night.

She knocked hesitantly on the door catching my attention as I hadn't closed it just yet. I hadn't quite gotten to bed myself, but I was surprised to see Sylvie still up in her nightwear.

"I have a favor to ask of you." She said, more polite than she had ever been these days. "May I sleep in here tonight?"

The first thing that came to mind was the answer no. It wasn't proper for us to sleep in the same room. We both knew this and yet she still asked. She had her reasons I'm sure.

And she had blushed heavily a bit herself realizing the implications her open ended statement had, before steeling herself a bit. "I've been having frequent nightmares, remembering the past and such. If it's not too much trouble I'd like to stay here for the night."

It was a perfectly logical reason for wanting to stay here. Though I do my best not to boast of it, I'm likely the best source of comfort for her. A sort of safety net that she's slowly acclimated to.

"I think I still have a futon from one of my brother's trips." I said getting up to look through my closet. "I only have one bed so you can sleep it while I-"

"It's fine! I suppose what I'm asking is, if… um…" she's gone bright red. I'm a bit concerned she might faint. "We could just share a bed… for peace of mind."

I can feel the alarm in my mind going off. Something about this situation was wrong. Everything she's said has made sense. She normally wouldn't have asked me this. The fact that she did shows how much progress she has made, right? Even still I couldn't help feeling like she was hiding something.

Even if she were I won't deny her this peace of mind. "It's alright. I don't mind."

"Really?" She visibly perked up practically glowing, before remembering the precarious situation that this was. "I don't mean to inconvenience you like this. I feel like I'm being spoiled. Nonetheless, thank you very much."

We both got into bed though I did turn away to face the bookshelf. Hopefully it doesn't bother her too much, but it's the only way I know how to ease the embarrassment of this predicament.

I can't really confirm this since she woke up before me, but I thought I felt her inch ever so closer to me, spooning me during the night.

I thought that would help her get on her own feet. It happened 3 days ago before she made the request again. Then the day after that and before I knew it it became an unspoken agreement to let her sleep in my room. She had already moved all of her clothes in, and no longer needed to ask to sleep in the bed.

I felt she was getting attached, and I don't think it's very healthy.

(A/N): A short one to get into the swing of things.

The plot will THICKEN.