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By the time Aries returned from a quick talk—and perhaps a final goodbye—with Thresh, along with a brief hunt for food, night had already settled in by the time he slipped back inside the burrow. He had known Estella needed time alone, so he gave it to her.
But now, stepping in, he frowned at the sight before him. Her back was to him, her jacket discarded, revealing not only the angry wound still leaking blood but also her slumped, defeated posture. The wound, bad as it was, didn't disturb him nearly as much as the hollow look in her body language.
Estella wasn't like him.
Aries had grown used to people leaving him behind—rejection, betrayal, and abandonment were all too familiar. But for Estella, it still hit like a train. The first time someone left her, her mind chose to forget it. The last time, she cried so hard that even Aries—so emotionally detached at times—had felt it burning through his chest like acid.
"I got some bunnies!" Aries called out in an intentionally cheerful voice, trying to lift her spirits as he held up their next meal. The enthusiasm seemed to land when Estella turned her head, a grin spreading across her face at the mention of meat. "I also got some herbs for that," he added with a lopsided smile, gesturing toward her wound.
Her eyes brightened with surprise, practically sparkling. She hadn't expected him to remember all her teachings about survival and medicinal plants, especially considering how often he tuned out during her lessons. It was no secret how much he hated anything remotely educational.
Even with the knowledge that the herbs offered no true cure for the insidious poison coursing through her veins, a grim understanding settled between them. What the herbs could provide, however, was a temporary shield against the escalating pain, a respite that would, at the very least, render her condition bearable for the immediate future.
Aries, his movements deliberate and careful, settled himself comfortably beside her, meticulously arranging the small collection of items they would require for this palliative ritual. Once satisfied with the arrangement, he shifted, kneeling closer to her wounded form, a silent promise of comfort in his proximity.
Estella, with a subtle and almost unconscious gesture, gathered the strands of her hair, carefully arranging them across her chest, a fleeting attempt to preserve a sense of modesty amidst the stark vulnerability of her situation. Despite the gravity of the moment, despite the intimacy that circumstances had thrust upon them, the instinct for self-protection remained.
Aries, acutely aware of the unspoken boundaries, made a concerted effort—a truly Herculean effort, in fact—to keep his gaze respectfully averted, to prevent his eyes from lingering where they shouldn't. But his resolve faltered, and his eyes, betraying his best intentions, embarked on a clandestine journey of their own.
They roamed, cataloging, memorizing the secret geography of her skin—the subtle patterns of moles scattered across her shoulder, like a miniature constellation, and the faintest dusting of freckles adorning her low hip, details that were undoubtedly private, things that he knew he should not be noticing, should not be imprinting onto his memory.
