Madeleine Grows a Pair

22 - Bedside Talk

Upon waking up, Madeleine's first thought was what, followed up quickly by another what. He felt groggy, sore, and altogether just bad.

And, of course, gross. He'd been feeling that way a lot more often than he was used to, and even just moments after waking he already wanted to take a shower and a half to scrub all of the grime off. By the light, he needed it.

But also, being in bed felt so nice. He clenched the bedsheets and closed his eyes tightly, trying to disregard the burning feeling crawling up his back. A little sleep never hurt anyone.

Wait, bed? Bedsheets?

The last thing he remembered was outskirting the kingdom with Strawberry Crepe as they ran about and dodged his attempts to catch them. Then they got hurt, so he healed them and...

Oh, that's why he hurt so much.

Madeleine wasn't too enthused by the idea of him growing something other than wings. One incident was already more than enough. Though from what he knew, he could've sworn that the stabs through his back felt like feathers. Regardless, he genuinely didn't know what fully happened or how his back looked.

And again, how did he get in a bed?

Granted, it wasn't nearly as comfortable as his bed back home, which had pillows filled with feathers and a mattress so soft he sunk into it. Compared to that, this bed was as good as the floor.

Despite that, both observations he made (both the pain he felt and the bed that he was in) were dramatically wiped from his mind when he met eyes with Espresso.

His disoriented mind, still in the middle of waking up, slowly processed the fact that he was not only somewhere completely different from where he passed out but also that he wasn't alone. He wasn't alone at all.

Madeleine felt as if Espresso was staring into his soul as he struggled to figure out what happened between the point of his fainting and when he woke up. He blinked, mentally shelving the thought for later. He supposed it didn't matter, he couldn't exactly change what happened.

Squinting at the other, Madeleine took note of how absolutely awful he looked. Espresso looked more tired than a paladin in training, and his appearance in general was more unrefined than usual (and that was saying something because he'd seen him working overtime). His hair was a mess, his outfit was unbelievably wrinkled, and he looked like he could use a face care routine.

There was a prolonged silence between them. Espresso stared. Madeleine blinked repeatedly.

Madeleine started to squirm in an attempt to get up, but he very quickly found out that he was unable to do so.

He frowned. That was less than preferable.

With no other choice, he looked to Espresso and with a strained voice asked, "Uh, a little help?"

Espresso gawked at him, seeming just as dazed as Madeleine was, which the paladin couldn't blame him for. After all, he appeared to be even more sleep-deprived than usual, which was... something between impressive and concerning.

Espresso shook his head and let out a choked sound. "Of course." He assisted Madeleine with getting up, placing his arms on his shoulders and carefully lifting him into a sitting position. He spoke again, this time with even less certainty, and asked, "I know this might be personal, but the last few times you've had something... bad happen, you weren't exactly up for speaking."

Madeleine felt the soreness creep up his back again like a series of pins and needles. It seemed that sitting wasn't doing him much good, but he elected to ignore it. He thought about Espresso's statement for a second, considering exactly why it was different, and came to a conclusion. He looked around the room he was in and smiled softly, "I guess I wasn't afraid this time."