Music in the Key of Love

Chapter 11: Before the Party

Graham put her in his bed and made her a cup of tea, for which she was grateful. When he brought it to her, however, she grimaced at the taste.

"I just put in a splash of brandy," he explained. "For shock. You're white as a sheet. Drink up."
She nodded obediently and sipped at the tea until it was gone, and she did feel a little better after.

"I don't actually drink brandy very often," she told him. 

He'd pulled up a chair next to the bed like he was at a hospital. "That's not drinking, that's medicine," he corrected gently. "Now, are you hurt anywhere? Any bruises, scrapes? That asshole grabbed you pretty hard."

Cressida shook her head. "Only my knees, where I fell."

"Let's see."

Shyly, she raised her knees.

He sucked air through his teeth. "Yeah, you got some road rash for sure. Hold on a sec—" and he brought some cotton and peroxide from his bathroom. "This is going to sting a little, you ready?"

She nodded.

He dabbed at her knees with the peroxide soaked cotton, stopping every now and then to blow on them.

"There," he finally said, setting everything aside.

"Thank you so much, for everything," Cressida said. "I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't come along."

"I do," Graham answered darkly. "You really shouldn't walk around at night by yourself, you know?"

"How are your hands?" she asked, changing the subject. "I hope you didn't hurt them helping me."

He held them out and flexed his fingers. "They're fine. I hit him in the gut instead of his face, which was where I wanted to hit him."

"It's never happened to me before," Cressida told him. "It was so scary." Even though it had been a while, and in spite of the brandy, she began to tremble.

"Oh no, don't dwell on it, poor little thing—" and he gathered her into his body, getting into the bed with her.

His arms were like steel bands around her, hard and comforting, and Cressida rested her head on his chest, feeling the Saint Cecilia medal against her cheek. She continued to shake, even though she wasn't cold.

Graham felt terrible, and furious with her unknown attacker. "I should've hit him harder and more, I should've really hurt the motherfucker," he murmured against her hair. "I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that."

She felt light as a feather in his arms, slight and small. He rubbed her back and shoulders slowly, trying to calm her down. Eventually the shivering went away, though he continued to hold her.

"Cress?" His voice was soft.

No response.

Graham pulled his head away a little so he could see her face.

She was asleep, her lashes wet with tears.

Graham sighed, happy to be where he was with his warm bundle of girl. He pulled up the duvet with his foot and covered her before trying to get out from under her and lay her down.

He left her sleeping while he put away his groceries and got ready for bed. When he was ready, he looked at her and found that she hadn't twitched, and seemed to be in a deeper sleep than before.

He carefully got in bed, curling in behind her, but on top of the duvet. She snuggled into him in her sleep, pulling his arm around her waist from behind.