The Metaphorical Key Book I- Call of the Raven

Chapter IX

Pollux didn't rest for long before he got up and strode back downstairs to the living room. Ada flinched when he arrived.

"Oh--" she said, laughing breathlessly. "I didn't hear you coming."
"You're not the first," Pollux said. He was... ever so slightly notorious for accidentally sneaking up on people. He wasn't a loud person, and it even transferred into the space he occupied and the way he walked. It was okay, even beneficial on missions, but had ended in more than one misplaced attempts at self-defence. After all, the average person, upon being snuck up upon, would usually try to protect themselves.

"Would you like me to check your head now?" Ada asked.

Pollux nodded, watching Ada as she got up to fetch her medkit.

She radiated some kind of... motherly, nurturing quality that made Pollux trust her. She smelled like rain and woodsmoke, everything homely. She was small in stature yet rotund, with narrow lips.
Her nose turned up at the end. Her eyes, honey-brown in colour, were fringed with long lashes. But the most notable thing about her, at least in Pollux's mind, was one little detail about her eyes.
They had the kind of light that only somebody who'd seen far too many fade ever possessed.

She left the room. Pollux heard her rummaging around. He leaned back against the couch, shut his eyes, and tried not to think. He didn't know what he was trying not to think about, and he didn't want to think about that utterly confusing problem anymore. He filed it away into the box in his brain labelled Off Limit Thoughts in bright red (like stop signs.)

"Castor?"

Pollux opened his eyes and snorted a laugh. "It's Pollux."

"Oh."

Ada sat down with the medkit. Pollux closed his eyes and pressed his fingernails into the couch cushion. He hated strangers touching him. He trusted Ada, but she was still a stranger.

She kept her touches light, softly shifting his ginger mop of hair so she could get a better look at his scalp. Her hands were gone. Pollux let go of the couch.

"Well?" He said. "'S it alright?"

Ada hummed in response. "You'll be fine," she said. "Small amount of swelling, which should be gone within a few days."

"Did I make the right call avoiding..." Pollux didn't finish the sentence. He gestured towards the door.

"You feel guilty," Ada said. Pollux nodded, even though it wasn't a question. "If one of my darlings bumped their head as you did, I'd keep them home from physical activity. So, yes."

Pollux nodded. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Ada. And don't you worry--I know guilt. Too well, honestly."

Pollux paused.

"...How?"

He immediately stiffened when he heard Ada's sharp intake of breath.

"Do you have a headache, dear?" Ada asked. She was avoiding the question, Pollux figured, filing it away into the stop sign box in her brain.

"I do."

"Have you taken Omadall before?"

"Over-the-counter painkiller? Yes."
"Shall I grab some?"

"Yes, thank you."

Ada got up and left the room at a quicker pace. Pollux put his head in his hands and filed the fiftieth social misstep that week into the stop sign box.

Ada returned with two Omadall and a glass of water.
"Thank you."

"It's not a problem," Ada said. She got up, packed the medkit, and put it away back where it was beforehand--a hallway closet or something.