Amelia Royer (Ronsam) (
rogueinladysclothing) wrote2029-06-04 03:26 pm
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Entry tags:
[Duplicity] IC Inbox

Text | Voice | Video | Action | un: LadyRogue
[Amelia's device is ready for messages. Send away as you will.
Upon reaching her inbox, there's a long pause. And then, when the caller might think this is some prank or the inbox is improperly set up, a soft voice speaks:]
"Leave your message. We'll speak later."
no subject
He sighs, looking at himself in the mirror for a moment, and still has his clothes on when he comes back out to get her. "Shower's running, my heart. Nice and hot, and I put one of those little jelly things in so it smells nice. Careful not to step on it."
cw: (minor) dissociation
When he returns to her, she sits up slowly, hands already working to remove all her things. Her pendants and vial of memories first. The calming stone bracelet at her wrist next. Her wooden dagger-shaped hair pin last before she numbly starts reaching for the ties of her bodice. It would be easier to ask for his help with all of it, but he doesn't want her as she is right now, so she... doesn't. She strips herself of what clothes she can while sitting on the bed, then rests a hand on his chest as she slips off the bed to remove the rest. She can... do this, at least.
Her braids come out slowly as they make their way into the bathroom, her waved tresses falling almost to her waist. Has she thought of cutting it since she arrived? Has she ever cared about it? Does she even care now? No... not in the least.
She takes his hand to steady herself as she steps into the shower, immediately sitting on the bench to let herself be soaked. The water is calming, and even though she can't smell the lavender jelly, the oils it releases into the air are nice. It's more than she needs right now, but she knows this is how Wolfe is. If there's something more he can do for someone he loves, he'll do it. She knows, because she's seen it, and she does the same.
For a few minutes, she's silent, eyes closed as she simply exists in the spray of water and with him at her side. It's still too much, but it will always be too much.
"Thank you." She leans her weight into him, head pressed against his shoulder and hair draping over them both. "I'm..." tired. lost. unsteady. "...sorry." For him having to be here. For being the way she is. For asking so much of him. He deserves so much more than to suffer her in this state.
wrap?
"You're welcome, Love," he murmurs, getting thoroughly soaked but preferring that state to ever leaving her alone to suffer. If he has his way, she'll never suffer loss again, not like this. Not if he can achieve his goals. "You're always welcome."