I've seen Perfection

Part eleven

Okay....Gods, I'm so nervous. No idea how often I rewrote this. Still not sure about it but too lazy to do it again, I'll just hope it's not crap and will disappoint anyone.
No more words or I'll keep lamenting about how hard I found this, so please, be lenient...

Hope you like it, I'm praying for comments.

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He's very sorry. Anna had been gone several minutes, but Mrs Hughes hadn't moved. She sat in her chair, motionless, turned towards the door the young woman had closed when she left. 
He's sorry. How did she know? What had she seen? Mrs Hughes stared at the floor in front of her, tried to organize her thoughts that were rushing through her mind, hard to concentrate on one of the many questions that had popped up in addition to what had troubled her already. Was he really? Did he understand what he had caused in her? Did he know how she felt? How did he feel? And most importantly, should she go and see him?

Still rather like in a trance, Mrs Hughes stood up and opened the door, stepped out of her sitting room and down the corridor, her feet leading the way unconsciously before she had even made the decision to move at all. Suddenly, she found herself standing in front of his door, the sound of rustling paper and silently uttered curses telling her that he was still up and inside. Without thinking about it, Mrs Hughes slightly opened the door without knocking - something she usually never did - and glanced inside.
He was bent over his desk, swiped paper in a basket, black paper, black, soaking paper, she discovered a little amused - apparently, he had thrown over the ink bottle.
That must have been when Anna caught him, she thought and suppressed a smirk at the image forming in her head - a flustered Mr Carson, his desk a mess and his hands as black as the papers, looking up in horror at the intruder standing in his door. He had cleared his desk now and stood there, unaware of her presence, looking at his hands a little desperately, apparently unsure how to proceed.
That was when Mrs Hughes knocked at the doorframe to draw his attention to her.

"Mr Carson?"

"Mrs Hughes!" He looked up in surprise, his expression not unlike the one she had just imagined.

"May I...?", she asked, gesturing inside.

"Of course, yes...", he stuttered, blinking several times, gathering himself, "please, come in."
"I'm sorry for the mess", he muttered then when she observed what was left of the black liquid on his desk, "I...had a little accident. Let me just-" He made move to- well, she didn't know exactly and neither did he, as it seemed, for he made a step forward, looked at the desk, looked at his hands, but didn't do anything, for everything he touched would only have been stained even more.

"Wait", Mrs Hughes said, unable to suppress a little laugh at the sight. "You'll only make it worse. Come on - kitchen, now, we need to get this off."

"I suppose you're right", he said with a little sigh and followed her out of the room.
He walked up to the washbasin and hesitated.

"Let me help you", her soft voice came from behind his back and he heard the amusement in her voice before he could see it on her face.

"Really, you don't need to-"

"I know I don't need to", she interrupted him with a smile, "but I'll do it anyway." He watched how she put some soap in his hands and then opened the water tap.
"That's what friends are for, aren't they?", she said when he began to rub the ink off, the water coloured black immediately.

"Friends, yes...", he mumbled more to himself and silence filled the room, only broken by the splashing of the water that disappeared in the drain, slowly taking the black colour with it.
Was that only a thoughtless comment?, he asked himself. Or did it have a deeper meaning? Did she mean to tell me-?
He threw a glance at her from the corner of his eye as he closed the tap and nodded gratefully when she handed him a towel, his mind too troubled to manage a smile. Neither of them dared to say anything when they made their way back to his pantry -both not quite sure why she followed him at all-, but as soon as the door had closed behind him, he couldn't hold back any longer.