Sunday 12/16/07
Who: Mikhail, Sydni When: Daytime Where: The Apartment What: The two finally have time to themselves to relax, worry about one another, and recover Warnings: Possible language
Since the previous Tuesday, Mikhail had taken to wearing his eye patch every day, all day, without fail. There was something about wearing it that was like a comfort blanket, or the idea of putting a Band-aid on even when there was no real wound. It was all in his head, but he feared people looking at him like he was different because his eye was, by this point, obviously blind. At least with a patch it left an air of mystery. Was he blind? Was he weird? Was it just some accessory? Or was it something else? That, and in the past he had always learned to fear people with eye patches.
He would rather have people fear him, as they always had when they did not know him personally, than be afraid of everyone else.
Finally, when the weekend rolled around, Mikhail had done absolutely nothing other than worry about Sydni's recovery and hang around the apartment. On Saturday he had caught up on reading--the one time he had taken off his patch was to wear his new reading glass that drove him totally batshit insane--and read some papers from his students. Never being big into the television, he sat in front of it with a newspaper and caught up on American and Russian events. When the morning came on Sunday, however, he went about his usual routine before approaching Sydni.
"How is feeling?" he asked, hands lightly on her waist for comfort as he stood close. "Are healing?"