Work Text:
"I'm home."
"Ah! Ishy-Fishy!"
Ishmael wobbled on her tired legs as she was suddenly bodied by her hyperactive girlfriend, who literally spawned in the hallway to greet her.
"I told you so many times not to call me that."
The redhead grumbled annoyed as she took off her shoes and her coat.
"But it's so cuuute...it suits you!" Don Quixote pouted.
Ishmael answered her with a resigned sigh and gently ruffled the blonde's hair, then went straight to her room which was next to Don's. The short woman furrowed her brows in confusion, left alone in the hallway; she knows her partner has a routine after coming back from work, which consists of going to the kitchen and getting a snack, catching up with her, and then going for a power nap. Sure, there are days when Ishmael would be more exhausted due to a greater amount of work, but still, today something just seemed...off. Don took a deep breath and pondered for a while. First of all, she noticed the puffy eyes on the sailor's face. Then, there was the unusual lack of bickering...and her appetite was missing, too. It caused the blonde to grow worried - she had to check up on her and make sure that everything was okay; and if it wasn’t, she was willing to help and fix it, and make Ishmael feel better.
After preparing some tea and snacks (Don Quixote knew the redhead loved roasted seaweed) she shyly knocked on the door to her girlfriend's room.
"Can I come in? I have food!"
She tried to bargain and heard Ishmael's light chuckle.
"Come in."
Excited by the granted permission, Don Quixote entered the room. The sailor was sitting on the floor with her back leaning against her bed and with a phone in her hands. The blonde put the food on the ground and then sat next to her partner.
"Did something happen?" she asked gently, intertwining their fingers together and holding Ishmael's hand.
"Ah, I hoped you wouldn't notice." the other woman smiled bitterly.
A moment of silence passed, as the blonde patiently waited for her partner to collect her thoughts. Whether she decided to share what was bothering her or not, Don will still stay by her side and comfort her as best as she could. Finally, Ishmael spoke, her voice uncharacteristically shaky.
"I-It's about the turtle I managed to rescue not so long ago, you know."
"Ah! I remember!"
Don Quixote smiled brightly upon recalling how excited Ishmael was when she told her and Rodion about the animal. It was rare to see her girlfriend be so openly joyful, so it was a memory she greatly cherished.
"Yeah. I checked with the vet today, and...i-it didn't survive the night."
Ishmael bit her lip in an attempt to compose herself and squinted her eyes so they would hopefully stop watering.
"I'm sorry."
Don squeezed her girlfriend's hand and wore a sad expression on her face, which, Ishmael thought, didn't suit her at all.
"Don't apologize, dummy. You didn't do anything wrong."
The redhead snickered and quickly wiped her face with her sleeve.
"Ah, shit. Sorry, I don't...I don't know what's gotten into me. It's just an animal, I knew the chance of it recovering from its injuries was small. I don't know why I...care so much. It's stupid."
Don quietly observed Ishmael struggling to come to terms with her feelings, constantly needing to rationalize and distance herself from her emotions. She never liked her girlfriend doing that, but that was a conversation for another time. For now, she just wanted to make her feel better.
"It's okay to care." Don Quixote protested, tightly hugging the sailor "Even if you think it's stupid, I don't think it's stupid. Your emotions aren't stupid."
"Ah, shut up...you're going to make me cry..."
Ishmael groaned with a laugh, reciprocating the hug and silently sniffling.
"That's okay! Cry then!"
The blonde hugged her even tighter, offended by how the redhead was trying to bottle up her feelings.
"No, it's fine. I don't like to cry. I'm not that type of a person."
Ishmael shook her head and freed herself from her partner's embrace. Don felt slightly defeated, but she wanted to provide some comfort nevertheless, so she reminded Ishmael of the snacks she brought. Then, she made a quick trip to her room and returned with her laptop so they could watch something together; both she and Ishmael loved wild nature documentaries. She made sure her girlfriend was comfortable and taken care of, and when the movie started, Don Quixote situated herself on the bed above Ishmael who was on the ground and started gently combing her ginger locks with her hands. The sailor took pride in her long, fluffy hair, even though it was a pain to keep it in good condition. For that reason, she was wary when people would try and play with it, and there was only a handful of individuals she felt comfortable with touching her hair, her girlfriends, of course, being part of that small group. Ishmael sighed when Don began braiding her hair, and she felt her sore, tired muscles relax, as well as her mind getting clear. It didn't take long for her to doze off, peacefully indulging in her girlfriend’s gentle touch. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but it was nice to be the one who was being taken care of, for a change.