111 Touch (1/2)
”Ah… you stupid,” Vixen muttered, as he looked down at her face.
”C-cold… I-I'm cold,” Regan stuttered through quivering lips.
”Yeah,” Vixen sighed, ”I heard you the first time.”
Regan gave a brief chuckle. ”D-Damien?”
Vixen's eyes rolled into their sockets. ”Like he'd be anywhere near this building. Or near you,” she mumbled.
”What did you say Dammy?” Regan asked, a smile on her face. ”It's been a while since I heard you.”
”That's cuz' it isn't him,” Vixen snapped, ”it's Vixen.”
”Ah…” Regan muttered. Her face switched to a frown. ”Who are you?”
Vixen's mouth opened but no words came out. ”Nevermind. Are you still cold?”
Regan gave a tiny nod, her heavy eyelashes refusing to let her open them to see who was in front of her. She shuddered again, the overwhelming rush of shivers running down her body. Her throat tightened. She could still feel the hand.
Vixen looked down at her and the pool of vomit beside her body. He let out a deep sigh. ”Close your eyes, you can't see anyways.”
Regan, despite only hearing the quiet, deep voice of the stranger felt the need to adhere to his words. Her heavy eyelids close.
”Ok, don't be alarmed,” Vixen murmured. His arm covered her back and he pulled her close, putting his other arm under legs, then hefted her up. ”I'm only taking you to your bed, no place else, ok?”
Regan once again nodded. She flinched when she felt herself get higher in the air, the stranger's strong muscular hands held her carefully. She hated the feeling of being suspended in the air. Her throat tightened and she trembled.
The stranger began to move, steady steps showing no sign of hardship while he held her.
”We're here, I'm going to place you on your bed now,” Vixen announced, standing over the bed. ”You ready to come down?”
Regan nodded.
He gently laid her down and grabbed the bedsheets at the edge of her bed, covering her body with it.
A layer of warmth laid on top of Regan. Slowly her heavy breathing calmed down and her tensed up body relaxed into the bed. She could hear quiet footsteps in the room, they were getting further away from her.
”Are you leaving?” Regan asked, her voice holding a twinge of sadness.
Vixen looked back at her, his shoulders dropping a bit in relief. She looked comfy. ”No, I'm not. You made a bit of a mess. I can't ignore the mess.”
Regan nodded with understanding. ”I'm sorry.”
”Don't apologize, I'm ok with it. As long as you're ok,” Vixen smiled. A bit of stress that had been laying on his shoulders released. 'She sounded ok.' He bent down and using the toilet papers he had found in the bathroom, began to clean up her mess.
”Most likely, unless another issue is brought up then I'll have to stay to look after you,” Vixen sighed.
”You don't sound too happy,” Regan muttered, her voice dropping and her curiosity dropping with it. ”Did I make you upset? Are you mad at me?”
Vixen turned back at Regan for a moment before turning back to clean. He chuckled. 'She sounds so pure like this, despite the fact that she had a panic attack a minute or so before,' he thought to himself. 'I bet her present self would hate to even know that I was in her company. She would probably curse me out the moment her eyes laid on me.'
His smile widened. 'Was she also like this when she was drunk?' he thought to himself, imagining it brought a smile to his face. It was a shame he wouldn't get to see it. He never liked the thought of getting involved with people from the outside. He wouldn't be with her either.
He put away the vomit in the bathroom trashcan and wrapped the bag up. He walked from the toilet to the front door of the room. Regan laid there patiently waiting for his answer.
”No I'm not mad at you,” Vixen chuckled, ”I'm rather concerned.” He had already walked back to the bathroom to wash his hands.
”Concerned?” Regan repeated like she hadn't heard him due to the distance.
”Hm,” Vixen muttered. He looked up into the mirror. ”Concern.”
He picked up a towel that hung on the hanger behind him and ran the smallest towel under cold water.