Re: Holly's place: Holly/ Noah
Holly was feeling dumb. I mean, dumb in that stupid emotional way people get when they're not feeling well. It meant that Noah's greeting? That simple 'hi, baby,' made Holly's eyes water. Because, hello, stupid, and he chuckled at himself as he sat back. "I'm a mess," he admitted, "but I don't feel worse or anything. It's just, I don't know, the meds or something." Because that was about as intelligently as Holly could explain what was happening with him. He was supposed to meet with a shrink at the facility, but he was just one person in a long list that needed to be seen and cleared, and PTSD wasn't something Holly had any real understanding of.
He had absolutely no idea what Noah was doing with the water, and there was a warm spike of surprise that went all the way to his belly when Noah dabbed at his neck and forehead. And, sure, he was supposed to take the whole painkiller, and he would, you know, in a second. He took the pills, and then he grabbed for Noah's wrist, holding the guy there with a loose cinch of fingertips. "I got shot, but you felt it all. You were there, like, how I never felt you somewhere before. So, talk to me about it," he coaxed, and he pushed himself to standing, grip still on the guy's wrist. "Sit on the bed with me," because he didn't want Noah to have to stand there and talk, right? So, he moved slowly, tugging on Noah, taking any help Noah offered, and then dropping down on the edge of the bed with a groan. He'd have to clean the wounds, but that could wait, too. Right now? He wanted Noah to talk to him.