Nina got her arm around Bas, and supported him. She was surprisingly strong despite being smaller and lighter. He was warmth to the touch. It felt right walking him this way.
She had been very much enjoying her journey into the slums with Bas. It was a welcome change for her to spend time in the company of an appealing, smiling young(er) man, good looking even with his one eye swollen shut as though he were constantly winking; but now she felt some alarm. She was out of her depth. Bas was so much more worldly than she was. He knew such things. He knew of hitting on people and calling girls angels. He probably knew of dating and its mysteries. He spoke of them matter of factly, as if the knowledge was commonplace.
Oh, but what I would give, not to be romani or atharim, but to live and love like a normal girl?
The full, dizzying burden of that confession silenced the young woman for some time. On the stairs as they moved up together, she scolded herself inwardly for being so silly. So what if Bas flirted with other girls, or dated? It was just that she had never considered the idea before.
She wasn’t sure what to expect, though she anticipated feelings of excitement. Nina smiled at the warmth in his laughter; his gentle voice and saw how he naturally directed his attention toward her. Muscle memory, old systems, still ticking over. He was good with the others; it was like Bas could seen straight to her heart. How come?
The day was warm and light, and it was time they stopped and rested by some nearby sunflowers in the path’s undergrowth. The plan to walk Bas home met with Nina’s approval.
Leaking blood, Bas was getting slower all the time. His strength had held up well, but he was flagging now, slowed by the returning pain of his wound. She stopped him.
“Oof! You’re heavy!” Smilingly.
Hovering beside Bas, she checked the state of her dressings carefully and she hoped, calmly. Nina ripped off her sleeve, and tied it around the wound opening. Even so, the part she stitched still continued bleeding and in a blink of an eye, dyed the cloth in a deep red.
He should go to the ER, or so she thought but upon seeing the look on his face, Nina kept quiet and kept walking together; pausing rather often for breaks.
They finally arrived at the top of the stairs. The door to it was locked. Nina had to wait for Bas to pound on the door for several minutes. Then a minute longer while he found the key.
At his fairly simple request, Nina hesitated. Spent a minute deciding it would be most appropriate. She was a woman of process; of letters; but—
… Why was there a tight sadness in her heart?
She was pleased he’d been even slightly relying on her all this way. Inside, once again, she didn’t believe a word of his remarks. She had misjudged him—Bas was not only drugged off his head, but most likely flirted with all the girls.
“Sure,” she turned away from him and wished desperately that her voice wasn’t so tenuous. Why couldn’t she say it calmly! Why?
A blush slowly covered her heart shaped face, as she settled on leaning over—c a r e f u l l y!— and nervously reached in for the key… A simple, key fob, edged in brass.
She took the small key out of Bas’s pocket, wiped the blood from it, and a final red-faced look at Bas before she took the key and fitted it into the reader.
There was a click as the key locked into the panel, then a silence, then a low groan coming from the door. It swung open with a drawn out, lethargic creak, allowing warm air to escape.
There, the hot air had blown out a curious smell of food cooking. It came to her on the air as they stumbled forward into the flat. She couldn’t place it. The day before, she’d run past the hospital cafeteria in the morning while they baked the bread. It was like that, but not quite.
Waiting just inside, Nina studied the stylized, painted figures, hands clasped, eyes lowered as if to pray. It was all nonsense, she thought of her dad’s coiled snake motif signet ring at home. She backed away slowly, slightly alarmed by the door shutting behind her with another lingering creak in the air.
Forgetting Bas was still supported by her.
She had been very much enjoying her journey into the slums with Bas. It was a welcome change for her to spend time in the company of an appealing, smiling young(er) man, good looking even with his one eye swollen shut as though he were constantly winking; but now she felt some alarm. She was out of her depth. Bas was so much more worldly than she was. He knew such things. He knew of hitting on people and calling girls angels. He probably knew of dating and its mysteries. He spoke of them matter of factly, as if the knowledge was commonplace.
Oh, but what I would give, not to be romani or atharim, but to live and love like a normal girl?
The full, dizzying burden of that confession silenced the young woman for some time. On the stairs as they moved up together, she scolded herself inwardly for being so silly. So what if Bas flirted with other girls, or dated? It was just that she had never considered the idea before.
She wasn’t sure what to expect, though she anticipated feelings of excitement. Nina smiled at the warmth in his laughter; his gentle voice and saw how he naturally directed his attention toward her. Muscle memory, old systems, still ticking over. He was good with the others; it was like Bas could seen straight to her heart. How come?
The day was warm and light, and it was time they stopped and rested by some nearby sunflowers in the path’s undergrowth. The plan to walk Bas home met with Nina’s approval.
Leaking blood, Bas was getting slower all the time. His strength had held up well, but he was flagging now, slowed by the returning pain of his wound. She stopped him.
“Oof! You’re heavy!” Smilingly.
Hovering beside Bas, she checked the state of her dressings carefully and she hoped, calmly. Nina ripped off her sleeve, and tied it around the wound opening. Even so, the part she stitched still continued bleeding and in a blink of an eye, dyed the cloth in a deep red.
He should go to the ER, or so she thought but upon seeing the look on his face, Nina kept quiet and kept walking together; pausing rather often for breaks.
They finally arrived at the top of the stairs. The door to it was locked. Nina had to wait for Bas to pound on the door for several minutes. Then a minute longer while he found the key.
At his fairly simple request, Nina hesitated. Spent a minute deciding it would be most appropriate. She was a woman of process; of letters; but—
… Why was there a tight sadness in her heart?
She was pleased he’d been even slightly relying on her all this way. Inside, once again, she didn’t believe a word of his remarks. She had misjudged him—Bas was not only drugged off his head, but most likely flirted with all the girls.
“Sure,” she turned away from him and wished desperately that her voice wasn’t so tenuous. Why couldn’t she say it calmly! Why?
A blush slowly covered her heart shaped face, as she settled on leaning over—c a r e f u l l y!— and nervously reached in for the key… A simple, key fob, edged in brass.
She took the small key out of Bas’s pocket, wiped the blood from it, and a final red-faced look at Bas before she took the key and fitted it into the reader.
There was a click as the key locked into the panel, then a silence, then a low groan coming from the door. It swung open with a drawn out, lethargic creak, allowing warm air to escape.
There, the hot air had blown out a curious smell of food cooking. It came to her on the air as they stumbled forward into the flat. She couldn’t place it. The day before, she’d run past the hospital cafeteria in the morning while they baked the bread. It was like that, but not quite.
Waiting just inside, Nina studied the stylized, painted figures, hands clasped, eyes lowered as if to pray. It was all nonsense, she thought of her dad’s coiled snake motif signet ring at home. She backed away slowly, slightly alarmed by the door shutting behind her with another lingering creak in the air.
Forgetting Bas was still supported by her.
Nina