nevermore_logs | (no subject)

WHO: Wrath and George
WHAT: I AM SORRY I SUCK SO HARD IN THE BAD WAY
WHEN: Tuesday? Whatever day today is. I am so good at this
WHERE: George's
WARNINGS: Wrath's sailor mouth and self-harm

Wrath had now had a few days to stew over her fight with George. At first she had been furious, but her night out with Lust had fixed that. Then there was just sadness which, over time, converted to self-loathing as it always did with Wrath. She now felt like the entire fight was her fault, and everything bad that ever happened to them was her fault and George couldn't possibly hate her more than she hated herself.

It was only spotting the Saint George bracelet Patrick had gotten her, sitting benignly on her nightstand, which made her seek George out instead of just taking everything out on herself. He was a saint and maybe there as a chance, a slim one, that he didn't hate her and he wouldn't break up with her.

That was how she found herself at his door, her skinny arms wrapped around herself. She knocked and then waited, holding her breath and barely able to keep her tears in.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah, probably," George agreed, shifting so that he was kneeling next to her. Several of the scratches were already puffy, the early signs of infection clear. He sprayed the disinfectant over them, watching as it fizzed. "These should heal up okay, though. Not a lot of time for the germs to set in."

"Fucking ow," she hissed, but she just screwed up her face instead of lashing out. "To top it off, now I need a new fucking mirror," she sighed. But she didn't need a new boyfriend and that was much more important.

"George, can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course," he said, dropping a kiss on her knee and bending to get at another one of the cuts. "Patrick's making mac and cheese, so there's going to be deliciousness soon."

Wrath watched him work, touched at how carefully he was treating her. She still wasn't used to it. George was a powerful person and he had the strength in him to do some serious damage if he wanted to, and she knew he had. And yet here he was, on the floor in front of her, handling her like a delicate flower. And that was about the last thing she was, at least physically.

She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair as he continued. "Sounds good. I haven't really eaten. What about you?"

"Neither have I," George said, tilting his head up into her hand. He began wrapping gauze around one set of cuts. "He and Clio are gonna go out of the city for his feast day, if you want to stay over for the weekend?"

"I really fucking would," she agreed with a smile. "Finish me up and we'll eat shitloads. Thanks. For not hating me."

"I could never hate you," George said, smiling and giving her knee another kiss. "I'll wrap your legs up like mummies and we can sneak attack Patrick when he comes home."

"You have the best plans," she said with a calm smile. She felt so much better. They were going to be okay.