cherry boardman (cherriest) wrote in fromashesrpg, @ 2012-08-11 01:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | !player: cal, !player: jackie, augustus pye, cherry boardman |
Who: Cherry Boardman & Augustus Pye
What: Taking care of him, as girlfriends do.
Where: His flat.
When: 8/10, afternoon.
Rating: Low!
Status: Closed/Logged/Narrative
This week, Cherry was learning what it meant to truly be domestic. After a cleaning spree, decorating binge, birthday supper and now caring for a very sick Augustus... Well, she was tired. It was the least she could do for him to go over and take care of him but she had sincerely underestimated how ill her fated friend was. Upon her arrival, he was halfway into his bed- the thought originally blew her mind but then she saw how sickly he looked and she stepped into the mode that she only found herself in when an animal was truly hurt at her workplace. Their dialogue was limited but she didn’t mind that. The more he talked, the sicker he became and she couldn’t very well help him if he was going to be talking incoherently and then vomiting. After the first ten minutes of her stroking his hair as he was sick, she really realized that what he needed was to sleep. It took convincing, that was obvious enough. He had tried to swipe at her hand once before she tucked it under the blankets, a soft but stern look taking her over. “Now, Augustus.” That was not the best way to handle speaking with him, she knew it- she couldn’t stop it, though. He was a sweet little child all wrapped up in those blankets and if she stayed in there with him, he was never going to get any resting done. The arguments of her leaving took only moments and she made sure that he had a bin next to him, though she was really hoping that he would just pass out and give his stomach a rest for a while. Truth be told, Cherry wasn’t sure what to do after she walked out of his room but her gaze immediately caught the work that she had begun on his flat earlier that week. The colors that she had stuck on the walls were not exactly what she wanted and she started to set to changing them to richer tones; the pale barley and the wheat weren’t cutting it and they were switched to dark chocolate browns and deep golds, the inner candy eater in her coming out. As long as she didn’t make it look like Honeydukes, she figured that he wouldn’t mind too terribly much. After all, what was a room- it looked more welcoming than it did before. This is what he paid her to do: change everything. The problem with changing everything is that she was too good at it and it often set her into a cleaning spree. He was a single man who didn’t have anyone to take after him, something that anyone could really benefit from. It wasn’t long before she was moving around furniture and putting little notes in his books for him to find, her mind finding little quotes and poems for him to discover when he least expected it. It was fun enough to move things around just enough for him to notice that she had been there. Maybe she was trying to fit herself into his life; slowly expanding, minor adjustments being placed around for him to think that maybe she had done it on purpose. Maybe she wanted him to come to her and ask her why there was a plastic frog behind the napkins on the counter. There may have also been a little giraffe in his bathroom cabinet but she figured that he’d appreciate it (and there was a sale at the toy store in Diagon- who was she to turn away homeless animal figurines?). The last one that she placed was on the sink: a little monkey that clung to his faucet and swung around before landing in the bubbles. It was clearly a good decision. By the time she got back to his room, an hour passed. He had made no noise and was happily sleeping on the bed, one hand outstretched to the other side of the bed, a pillow set out. Surely it wasn’t meant for her but she was more than happy to stay with him, at least until he woke her up and asked her to go home. It was odd, being in the bed of a man she didn’t know (and was very ill; she was a bit horrified that she’d catch his cold) but as she settled down into her separate blanket, Cherry reached out and put her hand in his, the tips of her fingers gently pulling his in tighter, the two of them (sort of) embracing as they went to bed. The last thing that she could really remember before falling asleep was sighing out his name, entirely exhausted and wasted on him. |