For Everything That Mattered

When he woke up to her cleaning the blood off of the wound in his side, he simply stared at her in the dim light of the cellar. She seemed to finally notice he was awake after a moment, and smiled at him.

"I was worried, so I came to see you. I'm glad I did."

"Did Guilty see you?" She shook her head quickly, and he could tell that she had made sure of that. He had warned her about it before, and he relaxed a bit, relieved she had listened. "Good."

"Can you sit up a bit?" she requested, and he moved, biting back a hiss of pain. She quickly wrapped the bandages around his torso, and he muttered his thanks. She nodded her head, and when she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, he saw the splint on her hand.

"What happened?" he asked angrily. She looked away and held her hand close to her chest.

"My master found out I was coming to see you during chores," she explained softly.

"Then you shouldn't be here," he pressed, taking her hand gently to inspect it. "He broke your fingers."

"He could break my arm, or my leg, and I would still come see you, even if I had to crawl" she looked at him, "Because…you're the only one here who cares."

"Then you should leave," he urged her, "I'm sure you'll find somewhere else where people will care about you and take care of you."

"But then who will you have?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about me, jeez."

"Guilty wouldn't clean your wounds," she pointed out, "and you can't bandage yourself well at all."

"I'd practice," he argued weakly.

"Are you saying you don't want me here?" her face fell, and he quickly corrected himself.

"I don't want you here if it means you keep getting hurt. I hate seeing you with black eyes and broken fingers."

"I don't want you to get hurt either," she looked down at her lap, "I don't like seeing you like this either."

"I can't leave, not yet," he told her, and her eyes rose to meet his.

"When you can, will you take me with you?" her voice was soft, and he could tell she was afraid of the answer.

"Yeah," he nodded, and she suddenly burst into tears, "H-Hey, don't cry!"

"I'm sorry," she wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks, "Thank you. I'm sorry."

"Girls shouldn't cry," he tried to comfort her, "They're prettier when they smile." She looked at him, bewildered, and he pulled a face, suddenly making her laugh. "See?"

"You're right," she smiled, shyly scooting closer to rest her head on his shoulder. "I'll remember that."