opened : 07. 28. 2022. |
closed : 08. 28. 2022. |
completed : 08. 01. 2023. |
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⤜⤞ this is crazy. this is real. this is love. without love, what does the world amount to ⤝⤛
@_-windflower-_2022
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ECHO HURTS.
I love you
The thought ricochets through her head as she feels the gentle movements of Joon behind her. He's braiding her now clean hair, fingers moving with effortless technique. She didn't even know he knew how to braid hair, much less dutch braid. He's on the second one now, her other one now hung over her shoulder as she holds her towel to her chest.
The shower had been nice, at least relatively so, even with the scarring agony that breached her skin, ridges of blistering flesh running over her body. They didn't look as bad now, it had been a bit since they scoured her skin, but the initial pain is outlined by the very memory of it all.
Distantly, she registers that Joon ties off her other braid, putting it over her shoulder before speaking. "Did you think about what you want to wear?" His hands thread around her covered stomach in careful, calculated movements and she can feel him press a soft, romantic kiss against the base of her neck. "I can go find Cordelia or Asia if you want."
No.
Echo's throat hurts, for more than one reason if she's being honest. She's not ready to face them, not ready for the firing lines of questions. Not ready for them to see her broken and battered and empty. Joon doesn't press it, but he must feel her tense, because his soft voice is back. The same voice he used for her on the beach. "..you can wear something of mine, if you want."
Echo fights the urge to lean back into him, to curl into his frame and pretend that none of this ever happened. She's so tired. Instead, she nods a little, enough that Joon sees it, and pulls away from his bed to go to his closet.
She'd have been fine staying in the other room, but Joon insisted that she needed somewhere that wasn't doused in ash and soot to sit, where her blistering wounds ran the risk of becoming infected. That is, if they weren't already.
It's not the first time Echo has been scoured in burns, but it's certainly been a while, and the pain is ferocious, more so than she remembered. Looking up, tracing Joon's movements as he dug through his closet, she realized that there were streaks of dark ash staining the front of his shirt. Swallowing her guilt, she raises her eyes to meet his as he approaches her again with a small stack of clothing. His eyes meet hers, and she watches his face light up again, that blooming warmth searing up her chest as a characteristic smirk flicks over his face, "You know Echo, it's very romantic to be wearing your partner's clothing."
More than anything, she wants to react, to say something, but nothing comes to mind, and she only manages to stare at him. He's so pretty, she thinks, and the worst part was that he knew it.
