Do her scars bother her? There were more aches and creaks from things she's broken over the years. The kind that reacts when cold and foul weather blow in. Because of that, Yelena was especially glad to be out of her home region of the world. Whether it was the old Red Room facility in Belarus or the new mobile one up high in the stratosphere, the chill used to be noticeably uncomfortable for her.
The other reminder of the past was every month that passed when she would not get her period, despite her relative youth. Biologically, she was 29; hormonally, on the other hand, she was menopausal. Yelena mentally shoved away how unappealing that and all the accompanying traits might be considered.
"Not physically," she echoed.
The return of her sight allowed her to gaze and appreciate the effects of the setting sun. Now she was looking less for scrutiny's sake and more for admiration. As they cut across the grounds outside, behind the hotel, the dogs seemed to grow more excitable. They began to bound and play, chasing each other around in circles, between the greenhouse and the shed.
The question on her mind was one that she half looked forward to having answered and half dreaded at the same time. Once asked, one way or another, it couldn't be unasked. In the end, Yelena decided it was better to know. "Do you wish the other night was a hallucination?" She wondered if Will wanted to leave things be and pretend it didn't happen.