Lights, Camera, Orc-tion!

26: Recovery

The first few days of recovery muddled through in a blur for Avicia. She slept. A lot. Kahdreg puttered around her, fretting and waiting on her. Even when Avicia became comfortable using her crutches, Kahdreg would trail behind her with tense muscles, prepared to grab her if she stumbled.

Even after a full twenty-four hours in Kahdreg's apartment, she was almost relieved when the orc had to go to work on Monday. They had thrown her a pouty kicked-puppy expression, their preferred duty obvious. From the couch, she waved them off with an encouraging smile. When Kahdreg closed the door behind them, the click of the lock an all-clear, Avicia heaved a sigh of relief.

The days without Avicia on set were the worst for Kahdreg. Most of the crew did their best to avoid the director, especially after one hapless newbie tried to ask about the incident. Though they managed to concentrate and push production, there was always a gnawing itch at the back of their head. Unbidden, their imagination would feed them an assortment of awful scenarios until they could return home.

As on task as Kahdreg was, hangups inevitably happened. If the production wasn't behind or experiencing difficulties, they would pop by around lunch to check on Avicia. Not that she needed it. Save for the first few hazy days, she seemed to be healing well. But she seemed to appreciate the company and the food they'd bring and Kahdreg got their dose of relief from their antagonizing imagination.

On the other hand, while Kahdreg was away, Avicia would play. Well, Bellamy Bluebell would, but same difference. She took it easy at first, keeping her sessions short and her make-up simple. Being worried Kahdreg would suddenly walk in on her also fed into her hesitancy. However, as Kahdreg's schedule became more solid in her head and her ankle healed splendidly, Avicia got more comfortable.

Her mid-morning or early afternoon shows overjoyed some of her patrons, even though she had to reuse outfits and wigs more frequently due to limited supplies. But fans in certain timezones hadn't gotten to see her live for some time, given her day job's hours. And happy fans meant a happy bank account for Avicia.

Which would just be sucked into the hospital's coffers, since her father's bills were extensive. Between her jobs and the fake-dating money, she could live comfortably. Though, Avicia couldn't help but feel disgusted at how much the medical industry was taking. She was lucky to be in such a fortuitous situation.

All that frustration aside, the thought led to another concern. A concern that Avicia spent hours contemplating. Did she actually like Kahdreg - attracted, sure, but did she actively enjoy their company - or was she just grateful for their generosity and misreading it as affection? She had dawdled around the thought before the yacht party. But now that she had long stretches of time alone, Avicia found the thought revolving back to the forefront.

It took her a full week to figure out.

Sitting on the couch, sated after a dinner cooked by Kahdreg, Avicia waited for the orc to return from their room, where they were freshening up. Her legs dangled over the arm of the huge couch, her gashed ankle unbound, though still not entirely healed. It was still a little pink and tender.

A couple sodas and waters were on the coffee table, along with popcorn for whatever movie or TV show they landed on. Or maybe they would cruise from one show to the next, chatting about anything and everything while the television acted mostly as white noise. She sighed, glancing at the little clock on the screen, wondering just what Kahdreg was doing.

Even as she was impatiently waiting for the orc, Avicia was hyper-aware that her time at Kahdreg's home was dwindling. Soon enough, she'd be returning to her own apartment. Which sent an uncomfortable clench through her chest. Some days, she had a hard time imagining returning to her apartment, alone. She couldn't deny the delight when Kahdreg returned home or when they both shared a meal.