His good blanket may be somewhat soiled, but he didn't comment. He was taking in the room. An actual bed. Sheets. Blankets. A shower.
He stumbled dumbly into the room, almost afraid to touch anything. What looked like a glass shower stall stood opposite the bed, and he opened its door and glanced in at the panel. He tried a button and a spray of warm water filled the stall.
He didn't even notice if Rachel was still there. With shaking hands he pulled off the rough-made, shapeless pants he was wearing and stepped out of them, never taking his eyes off the inviting spray. Almost reverently he stepped inside, closing his eyes as the water hit him. He let out a shaky breath, fumbling for the controls on the wall and dialing the water temperature as high as he could. Within seconds, steam began rising around him and he turned slowly, letting the scalding water run over him.
It was the most amazing thing he had ever felt.
His hair was longer than it had ever been, which was good as it covered the mostly-healed wound in his neck as it plastered down past his shoulders. He reached up, wiping his hands over his face again and again under the constant stream of water. His shoulders began to shake with silent, rhythmic sobs.
no subject
A shower.
He stumbled dumbly into the room, almost afraid to touch anything. What looked like a glass shower stall stood opposite the bed, and he opened its door and glanced in at the panel. He tried a button and a spray of warm water filled the stall.
He didn't even notice if Rachel was still there. With shaking hands he pulled off the rough-made, shapeless pants he was wearing and stepped out of them, never taking his eyes off the inviting spray. Almost reverently he stepped inside, closing his eyes as the water hit him. He let out a shaky breath, fumbling for the controls on the wall and dialing the water temperature as high as he could. Within seconds, steam began rising around him and he turned slowly, letting the scalding water run over him.
It was the most amazing thing he had ever felt.
His hair was longer than it had ever been, which was good as it covered the mostly-healed wound in his neck as it plastered down past his shoulders. He reached up, wiping his hands over his face again and again under the constant stream of water. His shoulders began to shake with silent, rhythmic sobs.