Ok, maybe this wont be finished before LE GRAND FINALE tonight. Anywho...
The temptation to allow him rest hangs between her and him now as she stands – his fake passport and three hundred euro's in hand – over the sofa, watching, smiling. This is first time, she suddenly realises with satisfied heart, she has ever seen him sleeping.
Unfortunately she knows his impatience was justified as soon as they entered. If they knew of this safe house inevitably someone else would and – as always – it's a matter of time before the door is kicked down and they're held to account. Beaten, no doubt. And while she knows she could withstand monumental amounts of CIA-style torment should the worse come to worse, the state he lies in now tells her he wouldn't last. Not long anyway. He's one an hour. As she sits beside him and begins to stroke his face gently, she thinks loud and clearly – temporary suffering for long term benefits.
"Harry," she says. He doesn't stir. "Harry. Harry wake up."
In her stranger moments she would chuckle at the odd noises she'd make when she woke up. Sort of baby dinosaur like noises. It's ridiculous, and something she hardly ever thought would happen, but he does the same as he finally stirs from the such unconcerned sleep and opens his eyes, pupils large and searching as they meet her face. Though she can't tell fully, his heart explodes with happiness; he has dreamt for years of the moment he'd wake and her face be the first thing he'd see. She greets him with a smile and waits for his vision to register the low light until he can open his eyes fully before he attempts to sit up straighter.
"Hi," she says, hand on his shoulder.
"Hi."
"How are you feeling now? I'm sorry, you haven't been asleep very long."
The sting of the fragile rib bones decide he is undeserving of comfort as soon as he's awake, and begin to throb instantly.
"I'm..."
"Don't say fine," she sighs. "Don't." And his stillness confirms she knows him so well now.
"You've got the passport then. And - blimey, how much?"
"Three hundred Euro's." She hands him said items. "Did you choose the name Liam Henry Oaks?"
He opens the passport and laughs.
"Not that I can recall."
"Good; I can't see you as a Liam."
His face turns suddenly serious, "Is your passport under your real name?"
"Yes, unfortunately."
He nods, slipping the burgundy booklet into his pocket.
"It's fine, we just need to be careful. We can travel as businesses partners."
As quickly as a change of wind, the soldier in him activates - he stands, poised, ready to go. It takes her by surprise and she stays sitting.
"Harry, wait. Before we go... now would be a good opportunity for me to have a look – "
His glare cuts her off. But she holds it. This is something they can at least claim they're practiced at. Ultimately, after a long moment, she just says 'please?' so earnestly it brings him to the sofa again, uncomfortably, and she thanks him.
"Lay out," she encourages, and moves to kneel on the floor. Without taking his eyes off her he does so until he's horizontal.
"Do you need me to take my shirt off?"
"I... er, no. It's fine."
"Because I don't mind. Really, Ruth."
"No. It's cold enough in here already."
He smirks.
"Have it your way."
In all honestly she's made it difficult for herself and technically not really avoided embarrassment. She's gentle but thorough as she meticulously presses two fingers between the bones under his flesh, and he flinches almost every time, so she gasps 'sorry!' and hastily moves downwards. By the time she's completed the left side, his taught expression is enough to push her hands away.
"Diagnoses, nurse?" he teases and mentally blocks the pain.
"I'd say the last three are broken," she replies, "Would you like me to have a look at the other side?"
"Would you like to?"
"Harry..."
"Sorry. Not the time or place is it. I'll never get that right."
Sometimes, just sometimes, she wonders why she can't overstep this line she's drawn for herself. It used to be a barrier. Now it's literally good for nothing, but it's still there and enforces her hesitance.
She says nothing.
More soon if you think it's worth continuing. Nervous about tonight!