Drabble #21
Jul. 25th, 2007 12:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kageisukeRenee didn't really know what she had been thinking on the entire trip to the hospital. Perhaps her mind had been blank, afraid to imagine the worst even though it had been said Traine was alive and conscious. They'd also said he was lucky to have survived in the first place. Her stomach did a small lurch at the thought, or maybe it was the car coming to a stop.
She hoped that the sickness she felt didn't show on her face, but by the looks of her raven-haired companion, she wasn't hiding it as well as she ought to be. Re-arranging her face as the car door was opened for her, she stepped out into the cool of a cloudy midday and easily walked in through the main doors, feeling Blake following close behind.
There was no point in stopping at the front desk as she already knew which room the idiot was in, and something told her she should at least buy flowers as was customary, but the closer she got, the angrier she felt. How dare that bastard try and die! How would it look if her newly appointed captain was killed before even a year had passed? It was ridiculous!
Blake's voice from behind snapped her out of the increasing cloud of anger that must have been visible around her. Yes, he was right. She should stay calm, so that the red-head would never see it coming when she strangled him...
They stopped outside of room 332 and Renee gave a few harder than necessary knocks. There wasn't an answer until she was about to raise her hand again and knock even louder. Instead, she pressed the button and the door whooshed open. Blake remained outside as she stepped in and looked around.
Hospitals were too white, almost too clean, and they had the smell of the sick in them, no matter where you went. It was hard to imagine Traine even being in such a place, but there he was, lying in bed, looking rather tired, though his eyes were sharp and alert.
The woman sat down in the chair next to the bed, letting her hands rest in her lap as she looked at him, allowing her excessive anger to dissipate. When Renee finally spoke, it was calm, curious, but not in the least bit agitated as she asked him what happened.
Hazel eyes, once so fiercely locked on hers, closed and his head turned to look at the wall. She didn't rush him, instead tucking brown hair behind her ear and waiting until he began, not interrupting as he recounted his story, recording it all though the microphone in her shirt button. He finished and ran his fingers through his hair, only succeeding in making it look messier. She resisted the urge to straighten it.
His eyes had opened again, and he had a questioning look, but said nothing. She raised her eyebrow back even as she acknowledged him searching her face and the sudden thump of her heart. Her fingers traced the button of her shirt, turning it off before anything incriminating could be recorded. He watched for a second before speaking.
"What happens now?"
Renee looked at him, letting out a sigh that could have meant anything. "I know we call you the Kamikaze Reds, but you shouldn't take it to heart."
He gave the slightest smile. "I finished the job, at least."
With a narrowing of her eyes she snapped back, "And you lost men while doing it." Taking a breath, she continued more sedately. "You took one more risk than you should have, and nearly died in the process."
"But I didn't die," he insisted, "and I won't ever make that same mistake again."
She laced her fingers together and stared down at them. Hair trailing over her shoulder, it hid her face from him as she gave a small grimace. As much as she would like to, Renee couldn't believe that. Raising her hands so she could rest her brow on them, she relaxed her eyebrows so he wouldn't think she was trying not to cry.
"You're going to give me a heart attack." The softly muttered thought slipped out before she realized it, but she made no moves to pretend like she hadn't meant to say it. The brown-haired woman almost thought he hadn't heard until she felt his hand around one wrist, pulling her hands from her face. Daring to look into his eyes, she regretted it when she saw his expression.
Voice just as quiet as hers had been, he whispered to her, "I always make you worry, don't I?" He leaned over and took hold of the chair, pulling it closer to the bed.
"S-Stop that!" Alarmed she stood only to plunk back down as the chair jerked forward. "You're injured, idiot! I need you back in condition as soon as possible, so don't reopen your wounds!"
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her forward. "I'm sorry, Renee."
Doing a double take, she stared at him.
"What?" Both eyebrows raised, Traine then gave her a disgruntled look. "I can apologize, can't I?"
Chuckling, she gave him a sly look. "It must be the meds."
His grip on her hand tightened. "I'm serious."
Her smile faded as she was forced to lean forward by an insistent pulling. "I know."
"Good." He closed the small gap between them, lips pressing against hers before gently coaxing her mouth open.
Renee's immediate thought was to stop, but as she placed a hand on his chest and felt the small shaking from his effort to lean towards her, the resolve instantly melted. She could only slide forward so he could lean back, but it didn't prevent his hand from moving up her side and bringing her ever closer. Just as she decided to slide on the bed next to him, there was a knock.
She jumped to her feet and probably looked extremely guilty because behind Traine's own startled look was amusement tainted with irritation. He gave a small tug on her suit jacket before his hand fell back to the bed. Her tongue ran over her lips as she straightened out non-existent wrinkles, and walked to the door to open it rather than sitting back down in the far-too-close-to-the-bed chair to tell the visitor to come in.
When she opened the door, she tried her hardest not to smile. This would definitely be amusing...
She hoped that the sickness she felt didn't show on her face, but by the looks of her raven-haired companion, she wasn't hiding it as well as she ought to be. Re-arranging her face as the car door was opened for her, she stepped out into the cool of a cloudy midday and easily walked in through the main doors, feeling Blake following close behind.
There was no point in stopping at the front desk as she already knew which room the idiot was in, and something told her she should at least buy flowers as was customary, but the closer she got, the angrier she felt. How dare that bastard try and die! How would it look if her newly appointed captain was killed before even a year had passed? It was ridiculous!
Blake's voice from behind snapped her out of the increasing cloud of anger that must have been visible around her. Yes, he was right. She should stay calm, so that the red-head would never see it coming when she strangled him...
They stopped outside of room 332 and Renee gave a few harder than necessary knocks. There wasn't an answer until she was about to raise her hand again and knock even louder. Instead, she pressed the button and the door whooshed open. Blake remained outside as she stepped in and looked around.
Hospitals were too white, almost too clean, and they had the smell of the sick in them, no matter where you went. It was hard to imagine Traine even being in such a place, but there he was, lying in bed, looking rather tired, though his eyes were sharp and alert.
The woman sat down in the chair next to the bed, letting her hands rest in her lap as she looked at him, allowing her excessive anger to dissipate. When Renee finally spoke, it was calm, curious, but not in the least bit agitated as she asked him what happened.
Hazel eyes, once so fiercely locked on hers, closed and his head turned to look at the wall. She didn't rush him, instead tucking brown hair behind her ear and waiting until he began, not interrupting as he recounted his story, recording it all though the microphone in her shirt button. He finished and ran his fingers through his hair, only succeeding in making it look messier. She resisted the urge to straighten it.
His eyes had opened again, and he had a questioning look, but said nothing. She raised her eyebrow back even as she acknowledged him searching her face and the sudden thump of her heart. Her fingers traced the button of her shirt, turning it off before anything incriminating could be recorded. He watched for a second before speaking.
"What happens now?"
Renee looked at him, letting out a sigh that could have meant anything. "I know we call you the Kamikaze Reds, but you shouldn't take it to heart."
He gave the slightest smile. "I finished the job, at least."
With a narrowing of her eyes she snapped back, "And you lost men while doing it." Taking a breath, she continued more sedately. "You took one more risk than you should have, and nearly died in the process."
"But I didn't die," he insisted, "and I won't ever make that same mistake again."
She laced her fingers together and stared down at them. Hair trailing over her shoulder, it hid her face from him as she gave a small grimace. As much as she would like to, Renee couldn't believe that. Raising her hands so she could rest her brow on them, she relaxed her eyebrows so he wouldn't think she was trying not to cry.
"You're going to give me a heart attack." The softly muttered thought slipped out before she realized it, but she made no moves to pretend like she hadn't meant to say it. The brown-haired woman almost thought he hadn't heard until she felt his hand around one wrist, pulling her hands from her face. Daring to look into his eyes, she regretted it when she saw his expression.
Voice just as quiet as hers had been, he whispered to her, "I always make you worry, don't I?" He leaned over and took hold of the chair, pulling it closer to the bed.
"S-Stop that!" Alarmed she stood only to plunk back down as the chair jerked forward. "You're injured, idiot! I need you back in condition as soon as possible, so don't reopen your wounds!"
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her forward. "I'm sorry, Renee."
Doing a double take, she stared at him.
"What?" Both eyebrows raised, Traine then gave her a disgruntled look. "I can apologize, can't I?"
Chuckling, she gave him a sly look. "It must be the meds."
His grip on her hand tightened. "I'm serious."
Her smile faded as she was forced to lean forward by an insistent pulling. "I know."
"Good." He closed the small gap between them, lips pressing against hers before gently coaxing her mouth open.
Renee's immediate thought was to stop, but as she placed a hand on his chest and felt the small shaking from his effort to lean towards her, the resolve instantly melted. She could only slide forward so he could lean back, but it didn't prevent his hand from moving up her side and bringing her ever closer. Just as she decided to slide on the bed next to him, there was a knock.
She jumped to her feet and probably looked extremely guilty because behind Traine's own startled look was amusement tainted with irritation. He gave a small tug on her suit jacket before his hand fell back to the bed. Her tongue ran over her lips as she straightened out non-existent wrinkles, and walked to the door to open it rather than sitting back down in the far-too-close-to-the-bed chair to tell the visitor to come in.
When she opened the door, she tried her hardest not to smile. This would definitely be amusing...
