![]() ![]() She stands up slowly, letting Eleanor pull her to her feet, and then tests her weight on each of her legs. Velvet grimaces as she shifts her legs to the edge of the bed. No offense, but you've been in that bed for over a week, and I'd kind of like to wash everything in it. Besides, I have somewhat of an ulterior motive. I just want to be sure you're ready for it. Right away, Eleanor is by her side to help her up. "I'm just surprised to hear you suggest it." "I'm up for it." Pushing herself up on her elbows, Velvet manages to sit up. "Would you like to try walking again?" Velvet raises an eyebrow, and Eleanor adds, "Only if you're up for it, of course." "Not really." She could probably fall asleep, but it would be more for lack of anything better to do than because she needs the rest. "Are you tired?" she asks when Velvet finally notices her. She can rest on her side now without hurting her leg, and she's been eating at least twice a day, though not as much as normal.Įventually Eleanor reappears, suddenly standing right in front of Velvet's unfocused eyes. Right now Eleanor is bustling around the house, doing who knows what Velvet has been awake all morning, but has spent most of it staring blankly at the window or the kitchen, lost in her own thoughts. Eleanor rarely lets her out of bed, and even though most of Velvet's muscles are desperate to move, every time she's stood so far she's needed Eleanor to help hold her up. It feels like she's been laying down for an eternity. Several more days pass like this, until Velvet has lost track of how long it's been. Velvet dozes a lot, but even when she's not quite awake, she can feel that Eleanor is close by - in the brush of an arm, the rustle of sheets. The hollowness she feels upon waking from those dreams ebbs a little when Eleanor lies next to her on the bed during the day, reading or sewing or simply talking. Then that memory morphed into later ones, of looking after her own brother through his illness, year after year after year. In her more delirious moments she was reminded of her sister caring for her when she was sick as a child, the sense of comfort that pierced through her misery when she felt cool hands stroking her hair. soothing about having Eleanor watch over her. This really wasn't like last time, when she was lucky enough for the wound to heal on its own.īut even that aside, there's something. Velvet shudders as she considers what might have happened if no one had been here to take care of her while her fever raged - or if no one had helped her get the trap off. The Velvet of the year before would have hated to admit the things she realizes while recovering, starting with the fact that it would have been unbearable without Eleanor by her side. ![]()
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