DC One Shot And Imagines II

Helena Bertinelli- Washing (c)

Helena had gone to have a shower, so you decided to start working on cleaning her clothes. You filled the sink with cold water before you heard the shower flick on, so to not bother the temperature of the shower and grabbed the t-shirt from the bloody pile and dropped it into the cold sink. You begun to scrub at the red stains, doing your best to pull out as much of the blood from the fabric before you would throw it into the washing machine to do the rest of the job.

The water quickly became redder with every dunk of the shirt until the water looked like it was just blood. Once you heard the water for the shower stop, you pulled out the plug and begun to run the cold tap to try and rinse out the shirt until the water ran clear. You begun to continue the process with the next garment of clothes, hoping to salvage it from all of the blood and dirt.

Helena entered the kitchen, wearing her pyjamas and drying her short dark hair in the towel. Pretty much all of the skin that you could see outside of the pyjamas was discoloured in blood and bruises from the fight she had been in. She was in a bit of a sorry state and although you hated seeing her like that, you were starting to get used to it due to how often it occurred.

"I'm starting to become a master at removing blood from any fabric," you joked.

"You really don't need to clean my clothes every time I come home covered in blood, I can do it myself," Helena said.

"By the time you shower and feel up to it, the blood will be far tougher to get it out. It's very annoying to do. It'd be much easier if you didn't get into so many fights and cover yourself in your own and other people's blood though," you frowned, playfully narrowing your eyes at her.

"But you love me," she smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"Yes, I do."

She sat down at the table, groaning as she did so, all of her injuries starting to get to her. You continued to scrub at all of the blood-stained clothes until you were satisfied enough to put on a load of washing and hope the clothes would come out not looking like there was a massacre.

~*~

Written by Charlotte.