Peace

Please, Stay

'She's still hurt,' he thought. She didn't have any visible open wounds, but she was pale (at least, paler than usual). And he didn't know if she could–

He groaned.

'She literally can't cook,' he sighed. He just recalled that – she told him about it.

And that means if she tries to cook in his kitchen, she might blow it up...

...

'Eh, whatever.' He smiled. He was still going to cook for her regardless. She was still hurt, and his mom taught him to be respectful to guests, even if they were terrible company, like many people he knew, not all the time of course.

Her not knowing how to cook was just an added precaution to get her out of his kitchen.

Something caught his eye. At the very back of the fridge.

GASP!

'Oh my god...' he was astonished, shocked, amazed!

'Bacon!' he was so ecstatic!

'I could kiss you right now Genos!' Platonically of course. And in a friendly manner, lest it be super weird.

And it was enough for him and the shorty!

All trepidation washed away; life is good!

He exited Genos' apartment with a smile, right after he gave Rover that large premium meat, and separated a bit for the other one.

~

She yawned, but it came out more like a mewl than anything.

She slept soundly. And the futon was extremely soft and cozy. It had a foreign smell, but she didn't hate it. She took one deep whiff and exhaled contently.

Then her eyes opened wide.

It almost felt like a nightmare or a really twisted dream. Like some sick twisted visions of torture and serenity that she went through.

A man-turned-monster tried to kill her for the shortcomings and his vendetta. He fought her over circumstances she had no power over.

And the connection she built with a bald man... who was just as stoic and nonresponsive as she was.

She had faced off against someone in a death battle. A schemer who spent six years of his life preparing himself to fight her. He had almost killed her too. And in so, she had to face demons that she had been pushing into the deepest part of her mind.

Death stared directly into her eyes, and she won, barely, however.

Then out came the baldest of all men she knew. He came to her of his own volition. Because he was worried.

He confirmed to her that he was confident she could have handled it. Despite that, he sought her out and scooped her up and aided her from having to deal with a terrible situation... and then proceeded to treat her like his wife.

That made her face turn scarlet.

The way he spoke to her, with a hint of softness and understanding. Yet he also didn't shy away when he needed to. Putting his foot down when something needed to go a certain way.

The way he caressed her hair. He was careful when doing so. She had prolonged it by constantly asking questions and turning around to check his expressions... even when she had a mirror that allowed her to see.

But he never complained... not necessarily. It was always her that brought it up first. He was patient with her and answered her truthfully and without deceit.