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zinthe sighs as she rolls out from bed, not really wanting to just abandon the comfort and warmth that her fiance provides in bed. it stirs him a little--he's a light sleeper--but he quickly falls back into the rhythm of his sleep.
she stretches her arms over her head, groaning softly as she tries to rid her body from sleep. it doesn't work, of course, so she quietly pads to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her so artem doesn't wake further. she turns on the faucet, looking at herself in the mirror. inspecting.
zinthe sees the bags under her eyes that come packaged with her job as an attorney, but all it reminds her of is a much, much darker time of her life.
fuck. she can't do this today.
she immediately dips her head down and flushes her face with the freezing water flooding the sink, scrubbing and scrubbing with her hands as if it could wipe the memories of her past away. but of course, it never can.
she's gotten a lot better recently. artem makes her better. she doesn't drink, she doesn't even think about drinking; like how every night she thinks how good she's doing, how she's escaped her alcoholism and how she never never never thinks about drinking. ever.
zinthe hears the door shut behind her amidst her inner monologue and she jumps a little, whipping her head around--and some water along with it. artem stands, half awake and just a little concerned.
"th'water's been going off for a bit," artem murmurs quietly. "you alright?" he steps towards her, wiping some of her dripping strands of hair from her face.
okay, so she's clearly not alright. but she nods anyway. "mhm," she hums, turning from him and padding her face with a washcloth. "you're such a light sleeper." she teases, trying to change the subject; to redirect away from her, which is what the conversation's really about. not the water.
he puts his hand on her upper arm, gently redirecting her to face him. that face he has on kills her; barely aware or awake, but still concerned. "...zinthe." he gently tries to pry.
"m'okay, artem." zinthe insists. she doesn't like talking about it, even with him. he knows when not to pry.
artem's hand on her arm slightly tightens in its intensity, but he doesn't ask any more about it. he nods, a single, accepting nod, and lets his chin rest on her shoulder. "y'don't have to go in today," he whispers. "come back to sleep."
"can't." zinthe whispers back, pumping foundation onto the back of her hand. "y'know i can't."
they're quiet for a bit; they tend to be that often. he just stands with her, warding off her thoughts of her past. his protection is always temporary, but it's something she can always return to. something that she always needs to return to. she'll go to work, he'll stay in their apartment. but zinthe will always, always find her way back into the safety and protection of his presence.
