Re: dami/holly apartment
Comfort? She was sure he wouldn't come through that door, even without a lock and that was trust even if she didn't think about it. Maybe that was comfort, maybe it was just knowing that a flimsy bathroom door wasn't needed to keep him one side and her the other. The water was cold first, and heated through to lukewarm by the time she was done rinsing dirt out of her hair, until the water ran in rusty-brown curls to the drain. She was quick, quick because friends invited to the crappy apartment were few and she didn't want him left to meet the cockroaches all by himself.
When she emerged it was scrubbed clean and hair slicked back dark amber from her scalp, and a clean shirt over pyjama-pants that had hung on the rail since before Gotham had torn itself apart and ninjas run the streets. She hadn't expected help, not really, and she reached for cabinets and plates and a scattering of cutlery.
"Thanks," with a gesture of her chin toward the toaster and the noodles. Okay, it wasn't a huge deal? But she couldn't remember help before. "I think everyone in Gotham is showering right now."