After ten days without being touched, waking up next to the girl you loved is a reprieve.
He had been passed out cold the entire night. Subsequently following hardly being able to sleep upright for multiple days, sleeping in a bed felt like a new experience.
The sun was shining high and bright when she awoke, and he was surprised to find Eliza still asleep. He squinted her eyes, unused to seeing the sunlight after so many days.
He squirmed, trying to move for whatever reason. He was halted by Eliza's grip tightening. He allowed himself a couple of moments to bask in it. Her smell enveloped her; rose perfume and the smell of tea. Her touch was real, and it was safe, and he'd missed it so, so much.
"Are you alright? Do you need something?" she demanded rapid-fire and he had to press his finger to her lips.
"'m fine." he croaked.
His throat was dry, but physically, he was feeling a lot better. Though, his answer didn't seem to satisfy Eliza and grabbed a full glass of water off the bedside table.
He brought the glass to her lips. He obliged, drinking most of it, though he rolled his eyes before he did so. He pushed the cup away, dragging a hand over his wet lips, and spoke again.
Harry came and helped him up on his feet despite his feeble protests. He noticed that he was at Grimmauld place, his home. He placed him down on the marble floor.
"Get out," he all but ordered.
"What if your legs give out, or you pass out?" Harry demanded.
"I'll be fine. There's a seat in there if I really need," Rigel argued.
He pointed at the door and he huffed but left. Rigel's personal bathroom was quite luxurious and as simple as it was, he had missed it. The bathtub was large, and so was the shower; each would be able to hold at least six people.
He turned on both of the faucets, allowing the heat to override. Rigel stepped into the water, just hot enough to make his skin red but not enough to hurt. His legs were still weak after days of minimal use, but they supported him.
He let the water rush down his head and body for a couple of minutes, relishing in the feeling of finally being home. The scars weren't burning him, he flinched every time he saw them
Though, he found herself wanting, needing, to clean herself. He stared at the rack of toiletries, contemplating. His shampoo and conditioner stared back at him. He reached up on wobbly legs and grabbed them both.
Placing the conditioner on the floor by his feet, he squirted the shampoo into her hand. She massaged it into his scalp, and once finished, began lathering the rest of isr hair with conditioner.
He let it sit in his hair, replacing them both onto the rack. Rigel blinked at the wall in front of her as she let the shampoo and conditioner do whatever it was they did. Minutes later, she washed it out.
Using an exfoliating sponge, he lathered herself in soap. By the time he finished cleaning herself, he felt no different.
But he felt dirty and violated. The scars won't fade no matter how much he rubbed them. Bellatrix and Dolohov must have used some sort of cursed knife.
Nausea swirled in his stomach. He moved to sit on the seat in the shower. Placing his elbows on his legs, Rigel put his head in her hands. In through the nose, out through the mouth; he breathed.
Once nausea subsided, he rose again and finished cleaning herself completely. Turning off the water, Rigel stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself.
He approached the mirror. Personally, he thought he now looked like he was just released from Azkaban. His dark hair was long, matted, and his face was gaunt, sunken face with dark bags under his eyes. Even his teeth were slightly yellow. Rigel thought he looked like a corpse.
His ribs were slightly visible. It wasn't much, but he'd lost a bit of weight around his stomach too. He ripped his eyes away from his reflection and began changing.
When he finished getting dressed, he approached the door. He opened it slowly, expecting to find no one in his room.
Though what he saw confused him. Harry, Ron, Eliza, and surprisingly Hermione were standing at the end of his bed. And they were all staring at him. Had it been any day before this, he would've laughed. Having said that, it wasn't any other day. He noticed Ron and Hermione weren't bickering as usual;
He stared at them dumbly. He averted his gaze from his four friends, and that's when he realized a mass of presents sat on the chest which was at the foot of his bed.
"I missed Christmas?" Rigel asked
"And new year," Ron said only to be elbowed by Eliza.
"Yeah, we wanted to give you the gifts since, y'know..." Hermione replied almost awkwardly.
"Are you alright Rigel?" Eliza asked carefully.
He blinked again. Then shook his head. "I'm fine." He painted a smile on his face. "Let's see how you guys spoiled me this year."
He sat at the end of his bed and pulled some of the presents onto his lap. Rigel unwrapped them, thanking them, or promising to thank whoever got him said gift that wasn't in the room.
Rigel's presents included a sweater with a large GET WELL SOON worked onto the front, hand-knitted by Mrs. Weasley, a large box of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products from the twins, Kreacher and the elves sent him socks and gloves. A nice set of dress robes from Remus, a book on meditation from Hermione, a new pair of slippers from Tonks (clearly bought that morning and wrapped very haphazardly) and from his dad, a pair of communications mirrors from Remus ("So I can keep in touch easier") a subscription to Transfiguration Today from Harry and another sweater that Eliza knitted by herself that had his animgus on.
"You shouldn't have." Rigel smiled kissing Eliza. "Thanks, guys I love them I really do."
The worried looks on their faces were gone and their faces were lit up with grins.