[ she hadn't realized it, not consciously, but it isn't until shauna looks down at her shirt—when i see for myself—that melissa gives herself permission to fully untense the muscles in her chest. to breathe deep. she grins, unable to stop herself, a quick flash of teeth before she ducks her chin and reaches up to undo the sling and let it drop to the floor.
getting her jacket off is going to be a matter of logistics she hasn't considered yet, even as she undoes the buttons on the front and shrugs her left arm out. the fabric on the right side is stiff with dried blood, both from the entrance wound and from gen and mari's bloody hands gripping her shoulder every time they tried to pull the arrow out. melissa reaches over and begins to slide the right sleeve off, trying to do it without jostling the shoulder.
this isn't a good idea, this is—she can already feel the way her shoulder is getting hot, the way pain is rolling outward from the center like little seismic waves with each small movement, but she's just told shauna she's fine and shauna wants this and melissa isn't going to deny shauna anything she wants. maybe there's a little bit less awe in melissa's eyes when she looks at shauna now, but it's only because shauna has gone from being a fantasy to being a real person in her life, not because melissa loves her any less.
under the jacket mel's still wearing the olive green tank top she had on under her robe at the feast. there's gauze bandages wrapped around the entrance and exit wounds on her shoulder, both with a circular corona of pink, watery blood stained through at the center. she's suddenly very aware of how dirty she must look right now compared to shauna, who's standing in front of her with wet hair and clean clothes. maybe she should be embarrassed by it, but she doesn't think shauna will mind.
she thinks shauna might actually like it. ]
Can you... help me with this? [ the tank top. she's not going to be able to pull it over her head with one arm. ]
cw injuries/blood
getting her jacket off is going to be a matter of logistics she hasn't considered yet, even as she undoes the buttons on the front and shrugs her left arm out. the fabric on the right side is stiff with dried blood, both from the entrance wound and from gen and mari's bloody hands gripping her shoulder every time they tried to pull the arrow out. melissa reaches over and begins to slide the right sleeve off, trying to do it without jostling the shoulder.
this isn't a good idea, this is—she can already feel the way her shoulder is getting hot, the way pain is rolling outward from the center like little seismic waves with each small movement, but she's just told shauna she's fine and shauna wants this and melissa isn't going to deny shauna anything she wants. maybe there's a little bit less awe in melissa's eyes when she looks at shauna now, but it's only because shauna has gone from being a fantasy to being a real person in her life, not because melissa loves her any less.
under the jacket mel's still wearing the olive green tank top she had on under her robe at the feast. there's gauze bandages wrapped around the entrance and exit wounds on her shoulder, both with a circular corona of pink, watery blood stained through at the center. she's suddenly very aware of how dirty she must look right now compared to shauna, who's standing in front of her with wet hair and clean clothes. maybe she should be embarrassed by it, but she doesn't think shauna will mind.
she thinks shauna might actually like it. ]
Can you... help me with this? [ the tank top. she's not going to be able to pull it over her head with one arm. ]