Categories > Anime/Manga > Weiss Kreuz > Strange Times
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Aya grimaced. He must have slept with his mouth open, seeing as it was dry, and tasted like some obscene juxtaposition of morning breath and salt. He stretched, trying to work the kink of out his neck from falling asleep half on and half off the bed, a testament to his exhaustion, and froze as his hand brushed something soft.
He watched his fingers trail through long red hair with an almost frightened fascination.
Of all the idiotic, thoughtless things to have decided to do...
Schuldich moved his head slightly as Aya's fingers rearranged enough hair for him to notice. Like some oversized cat Schuldich tried to lean towards the attention, and shuddered with a quiet cry of pain the movement jostled an injury.
Aya never thought to have any sort of caregiver response, at least not towards anyone not his sister. But the expression on Schuldich's face...
"Stop messing with my head." He hissed hauling himself into a standing position in an attempt to reassert some sort of dominance in the situation, and frowned as he recognized the intent.
Schuldich had such pale skin. Every bruise and abrasion stood out so vividly, most likely making the damage look worse than it was. At least that's what Aya was trying desperately to tell himself. Sympathy was an alien enough emotion without it trying to direct itself at an enemy.
An enemy he had saved.
The world must have stopped making sense as soon as the tower fell, seeing as Aya was wondering how to get his unintentional houseguest and patient out of bed and into a bath or shower or something. Anything to try and rid the room of its current nauseating brine-y aroma. Anything to try and get that magnificent hair clean, to be able to run his hands through it and see how thick and soft it was when not crusty with salt and blood...
Tea first. Then he would tackle the cleanliness issue.
Tea, then Omi. No need to make the mother hen worry any more than necessary. A quick check in, a quick excuse for why he was going to be out of touch for a bit...
Aya scowled. "You bastard." He snarled at the unconscious man taking up his bed. Sneaking around. Lying to his team. Schuldich was never anything but trouble. What the hell had possessed him to make him think this would be, could be, any different.
Schuldich, supreme opportunist that he was, chose that moment to try and roll over, and to cry out in thwarted pain, which prompted a fit of coughing from strained and abused lungs.
"I hope you catch pneumonia." Aya growled, contradicting his words by moving to prop the telepath up in an attempt to ease his unsteady breathing.
'Thank you.'
Aya chose to ignore the faint wisp of gratitude, concentrating instead on arranging pillows behind Schuldich's head, propping him up slightly. A tired chuckle was Schuldich's mental response, a thick, slow bit of amusement before cognitive function faded back into blissful silence.
Aya stalked off to the kitchen to prepare two cups of tea.
Aya grimaced. He must have slept with his mouth open, seeing as it was dry, and tasted like some obscene juxtaposition of morning breath and salt. He stretched, trying to work the kink of out his neck from falling asleep half on and half off the bed, a testament to his exhaustion, and froze as his hand brushed something soft.
He watched his fingers trail through long red hair with an almost frightened fascination.
Of all the idiotic, thoughtless things to have decided to do...
Schuldich moved his head slightly as Aya's fingers rearranged enough hair for him to notice. Like some oversized cat Schuldich tried to lean towards the attention, and shuddered with a quiet cry of pain the movement jostled an injury.
Aya never thought to have any sort of caregiver response, at least not towards anyone not his sister. But the expression on Schuldich's face...
"Stop messing with my head." He hissed hauling himself into a standing position in an attempt to reassert some sort of dominance in the situation, and frowned as he recognized the intent.
Schuldich had such pale skin. Every bruise and abrasion stood out so vividly, most likely making the damage look worse than it was. At least that's what Aya was trying desperately to tell himself. Sympathy was an alien enough emotion without it trying to direct itself at an enemy.
An enemy he had saved.
The world must have stopped making sense as soon as the tower fell, seeing as Aya was wondering how to get his unintentional houseguest and patient out of bed and into a bath or shower or something. Anything to try and rid the room of its current nauseating brine-y aroma. Anything to try and get that magnificent hair clean, to be able to run his hands through it and see how thick and soft it was when not crusty with salt and blood...
Tea first. Then he would tackle the cleanliness issue.
Tea, then Omi. No need to make the mother hen worry any more than necessary. A quick check in, a quick excuse for why he was going to be out of touch for a bit...
Aya scowled. "You bastard." He snarled at the unconscious man taking up his bed. Sneaking around. Lying to his team. Schuldich was never anything but trouble. What the hell had possessed him to make him think this would be, could be, any different.
Schuldich, supreme opportunist that he was, chose that moment to try and roll over, and to cry out in thwarted pain, which prompted a fit of coughing from strained and abused lungs.
"I hope you catch pneumonia." Aya growled, contradicting his words by moving to prop the telepath up in an attempt to ease his unsteady breathing.
'Thank you.'
Aya chose to ignore the faint wisp of gratitude, concentrating instead on arranging pillows behind Schuldich's head, propping him up slightly. A tired chuckle was Schuldich's mental response, a thick, slow bit of amusement before cognitive function faded back into blissful silence.
Aya stalked off to the kitchen to prepare two cups of tea.
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