Chapter 10

Hands entwined, they talked. Evey couldn't avert her eyes, she was transfixed, mesmerized by his stare.

"How long…?" His smooth voice was rough and deep.

"Four days."

"And the train?"

Still staring deeply in to his eyes, she smiled and said, "Blown to bits."

A sigh escaped him, followed by a soft chuckle. At this he seemed to curl in to himself, head turning away from her, a hiss escaping through his teeth.

Desperate to make eye contact again, Evey moved closer and propped herself on an arm next to him, looking down in to his face. His eyes were screwed shut, and his breathing was shallow.

She frowned, "Is it pain?"

His eyes opened, their gazes locking again, and she suddenly realized just how close she was to him. He looked at her hard, but she could read nothing in his gaze, moments ticking by. "Yes. " was all he said.

"Your last dose must have worn off." She was up, needle retrieved from the vanity before she had finished speaking. As she injected in to his IV, his body relaxed.

"Evey…"

She crawled back in to bed with him, scooting close and looking down in to his face. "Yes, V?"

"I'm glad you're here." His voice was soft, his eyes half lidded, but his gaze never wavered from her. She entwined their hands again, and watched him slowly lose the battle with sleep. As he sank in to unconsciousness, his eyes closing against his will, she brushed a kiss across the warm enamel of his cheek.

No more than a day or so later, V was getting impatient. He wasn't sleeping as much, body restless but still aching and slow. He was unsure about how to deal with the intimacies of infirmary. She had to help him everywhere, to do everything, and it was making him uncomfortable. He knew she must have dealt with him far more intimately while he was unconscious, but he just wanted to function on his own.

So he was currently hobbling his way to his bathroom, clutching at the walls, stubbornly trying to do it on his own. He was proud of how well he did actually. As much as he hated the circumstances that lead to his mutated body, at this point he acknowledged it, because it wouldn't be possible for a normal man to do this.

Finding his way back out and into his wardrobe, he covered himself fully for the first time since the 5th. He did not seek out his more form fitting clothes, just some loose slacks he had never worn in front of anyone, and a flowing shirt he usually wore under a doublet. A wig was the last addition, choosing to leave his hands, neck and feet bare. It was far less skin than what she had seen, but it still felt like a huge exposure.

Standing in the doorway to his room, he heard Evey approach. She swept in from the door to the gallery, and stopped when he was not visible in the bed. V straightened his posture as much as he could, and when her eyes swept to him, he tried not to flinch at the shock in them.

Her face schooled in to a neutral expression, and she set the tray of food she was carrying down. When she looked at him again, he saw her mouth curl up a little at the corner. "So, how did that go for you?"

Remaining still, knowing he would stumble if he moved, he replied, "Fine. Okay. Bloody floor is cold, but it's nice to move, if it is a little fumbling."

She moved toward him, and he tried not to watch the patch of smooth stomach that was visible above her trousers. She reached a hand to the strands of his wig, fingers playing with the hair. She smiled at him, put her arm around his torso, and helped him move to the chair next to the bed.

She disappeared for a second, reappearing with a pair of socks. As she knelt down, he noticed her hair was a little longer. When she began rolling the sock on to his foot he asked, "Are you growing your hair out?" He gently ran two fingers through her inch long hair, pulling away when she looked up.

"I hadn't decided. There is no reason for the disguise any more, but there was something I liked in it as well. But I also missed my hair." As she rolled the other sock on, her fingers lingered a moment on his ankle, before she sat back on her calves and looked at him.

A pause stretched between them, and V felt the enormity of what he was doing, what he wanted, from her. It was so much to ask, too much, to expect her to love a man so broken and scarred. To say something, anything, he said what had been lurking in his thoughts.

"I miss your hair. I always… regretted removing it." He saw her shoulders draw in, her head glance down at the reminder of his torture. But when she looked back at him he couldn't see any accusation in her face. She looked at him intently, V still and breathless as the intensity made his heart ache for her, and after a moment her face relaxed, a smile on her lips. She leaned forward, her hands coming to rest on the tops of his thighs, and she said, "Then it's settled, it's time to grow it out. It is a new world out there, time to leave the past behind." She gripped his thighs, V felt almost faint, and pushed herself to standing. Still standing so close, legs against his knees, she leaned over him. The scent of gardenia, a smell that made V's heart pound, lingered around her as she retrieved they tray of food. She stepped back slowly, she met his eyes and said, "I'll just go warm this up again."

V closed his eyes as he drew deep breaths, and didn't know what to think or what to hope for. Should he be selfish and try and keep her near? Or should he encourage her to leave, to go find someone less tainted? How could she stand to touch him?

As he looked at his hands, mottled and red, he remembered all the times he had felt her take his hand in hers. She never flinched.

Waiting for her, V found no answers. He simply felt the churning emotion in his chest, and remembered the smell of gardenias.

lemons ahoy!