Re: Hell's Kitchen, Marvel, Clem & Matt
[Her warning against excessive smiling only had the unfortunate effect of making him smile again, with even less control, which made him wince in turn. She had a unique sense of control without malice about her, and somehow she never even came close to motherly. Matt remembered his mother with absolute clarity, a woman stronger than steel and capable of running a home made of nothing but boards, fishing net, and rough love. This woman didn't have anything like that. Strength, but more... stubborn than steel. He rattled a little chuckle under his breath when she tried to speak as he did, and he got a little glimpse of what it must be like for others to hear him speak.
He felt the change in her, the reaction to his touch, but the touch had not been invasive or sexual, so he didn't take her response as anything but some hidden working of her soul that had nothing to do with him. In that bent of mind, at least, Matthew was healthy. He paused a moment, at her temple, and then took his hands away, thinking it would be invasive to brush his hands farther down her face and shoulders to get a better idea of her features.
He was amused at the word "fussing" easy to tell even though there wasn't much moving in his battered visage. With both agony and relief, he put a scraped hand back on the sheets and pulled himself back on the mattress. It was surprisingly difficult to stay upright, but he had just forced himself into standing, an unwise move. His ribs complained.]
The damage be grave? [It was a light, but fearful question.]