11
part three
"You better not sneak out the moment my back is turned."
Shirayuki lightly wound bandages around Obi's chest, carefully wrapping up the worst of the bruises.
"Oh? Then you'd better not turn your back, Miss," he smirks, ever mischievous.
"Obi—" She glances up from her work, meeting his eye. There's an edge to her tone, albeit a dull one—more tired pleading than sharp command.
"I'm joking, Miss! I'm joking." He does his best to reassure her, but somehow the expression on her face remains unconvinced. "Really! I won't, I promise! Cross my heart and—well, you know."
Shirayuki chews at her lower lip—those assertions she'll have to take at face value. He doesn't lie, after all. Even if she can't always tell his truths from his fictions.
"...You're making a funny face, Miss. What's up?" he peers down at her, curious as a kitten, bandaged hand resting lightly on his shoulder.
"Hm, I was just thinking...you're still pretty wild, after all." She shakes her head once, setting red hair all aflutter, and finally resumes with the bandages.
"Huh." Obi tilts his head to one side, pondering at it. "You've called me that before—a wild animal. Guess so." He scratches at the back of his neck, still considering. "...Is that a bad thi—"
Just then something else occurs to him:
"—but Miss, do you really need it? The medicine?"
And Shirayuki's hands stop, yet again. How was he so very perceptive of all the things she'd rather keep tucked neatly away? But, secrets hadn't exactly worked out the first time around. So she takes a slow breath and steels herself. Or rather, she deliberately un-steels herself.
"It's...not something I need to take every night. Anymore. Things were just...on my mind."
"Felt it coming."
"Well, yes, and—hey, wait—" The roll of bandages slips between her fingers, because that definitely wasn't a question just now. "—what about you? You—" She remembers, what he had said after she finally woke and regained her senses. "—you had a bad dream too?"
She tries to catch his eye once again, but Obi eluded her, suddenly enthralled with some detail in the far corner of the room. Some detail he found mildly distasteful, judging by the set of his jaw.
"You heard me, Obi. I know you did!" Shirayuki insists, at his continued stubborn silence.
But he simply stares at some point beyond her, tapping again at his shoulder.
"And why do you keep—doing that? Did you hurt your shoulder too?"
Now that certainly caught his ear.
"Eh?" he starts, fixing her with his full attention, "No, this one always hur—I mean—"
Too late.
Shirayuki plants her hands on the arms of the chair, trapping him in place, and leans forward. Too far forward, he thinks, as he studies the flecks of gold in her green eyes.
"And exactly when were you planning to mention that?!"
"Um, I mean, it—it's an old break," he tosses his uninjured hand between them, fingers splayed, a half-hearted attempt at a shield. Not nearly enough armor to hide behind. "Never did heal quite right, so it—gets sore, you know? When I'm not moving or when it's cold out and—"
And with that, he clamps his mouth shut and glances away, leaning as far back in the chair as his cracked rib allows.
Because Miss was making that face again, and he wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room.
Shirayuki draws in a slow, measured breath as she takes a step back. Relinquishing her grip on the chair, she moves her hands to her own head, fingertips rubbing slow circles into her temples. Like she was very much done with all of this.
And he didn't blame her, he hadn't exactly been a gracious patient.
"You know—"
And Obi cringes –
"—I can make a medicine for that." She let her arms fall back to her sides, then stoops, to collect the dropped bandages. The emergency kit had contained nothing for pain. Only an empty vial.
"You just have to ask, Obi."
He blinks at her with wide eyes, still clutching at his shoulder. "Really?"
The question might have been a silly one, but it came from a place of genuine wonder.
"Yes, really. It will just take some experimenting, to find what will work best for you." She's already considering his situation—nothing that caused drowsiness, or dulled the senses. Something that kept working for a long time. Probably something that didn't react with alcohol...
"Huh. But, I'm used it. The pain, I mean."
Shirayuki fights hard to keep from smacking herself right in the face. She manages to curl her fingers around the hem of the long shirt instead. Giving it a squeeze, steadying herself, she slowly turns to face him once more.
"Obi. You don't. Have to. Be. Used to it."
"But—"
Shirayuki sinks into a nearby chair with a sigh. "Trust me, there are many, many people who take medicine for many, many reasons. And I've personally worked with several patients who've had, um...concerns, to create something special that wouldn't interfere with...with the things they worried about."
"But that—that's far more work for you, Miss." It wasn't quite a protest, but it was close.
"I suppose that's true," she admits. "But it's much better for the patient this way." Shirayuki tilts her head and smiles broadly.
That bright smile that lit up her entire face, like a candle in the night.
Like a beacon in the dark.
And Obi had to glance away, because she was simply too radiant.
"I'll...think about it." He taps at the shoulder in question.
She grins again.
"Besides, this cold weather is hard on more than old injuries, you know!" she hops back to her feet, newly energized, plucking a fresh roll of bandages from the kit.
"Now! Let's finish up, shall we?"