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Damsel is laying on the couch, napping cozily under a thick blanket while formless dreams bounce around in her head. A series of rapid knocks launches her back into the waking world with bleary eyes and a light headache.
With sleepiness still in her eyes, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and dragging over the floor, she approaches the front door. Opening it, she’s stood face to face with her landlord, a man of middling age with a thick moustache and an accent she was never able to place.
“Afternoon, sorry for bothering, just wanted to come by and keep you informed.” His manner of speech is fast, like he had to repeat this particular conversation a bunch of times already.
“Huh?” She stares at him as he continuous his pitch.
“You see, the boiler needs replacing and the mechanics need roughly two days for it so you won’t have warm water for a bit. Is that a problem?”
“No! Of course not!” Damsel answers the phrase without thinking. Her eyes growing wide, scared of upsetting him.
They both stare at each other in an awkward silence before the landlord fakes a cough and takes his leave, thanking Damsel for being so understanding.
Closing the door again, Damsel slowly blinks and lets the interaction settle. The realisation dawning on her that she just agreed to two days without heating or warm water. In December!
Wrapping the blanket tightly around her, she makes her way back to the couch, sleep taking a hold of her not long after.
When she comes to, the apartment already feels colder. Condensation on the windows obscure the outside world, her fingers feel cold and her nose stings if she breathes too fast. She’s awake in an instant as she sees Fury leaning down, staring at the thermostat on the wall, her bony finger tapping it as she tries to make sense of it.
“I think this thing is broken.” She breathes an airy breath, a cloud of fog exits her mouth as she does. “I had goosebumps all over and I can see my breath.”
“Aren’t you cold?” She asks, her head tilting to the side for emphasis.
“No!” Damsel yelps. “No, of course not. Here, take my blanket while I make some tea.”
Catching the blanket in surprise, Fury watches Damsel scamper to the kitchen and hears the distinct click of the kettle turning on. The scent of strawberries wafts from the blanket to her nose.
Damsel, quickly returning from the kitchen, is already ushering her back towards the couch, taking the blanket and wrapping it around Fury’s broad shoulders. There is a moment of pause as their eyes meet and Damsel freezes. Their faces close enough for Fury’s hot breath to hit Damsel’s face.
“I- I should go check on the tea. Here, you can start a movie in the meantime.”
A few minutes later, Fury, now with a blanket around her shoulders, the TV remote in one hand and a mug of hot tea in the other, is watching as Damsel runs to and fro in the apartment, finishing every chore that’s planned for the week.
Damsel’s thoughts are spiralling, trying to find more ways to keep herself occupied and not think about her cold fingers and face and how she’s letting Fury down by letting someone walk all over her again.
A few hours later and the apartment is spotless. Damsel stands in the middle of the living room, staring at the floor. Colour fading from her body the longer she remains unmoving, her skin becoming more and more paper-like as she lets the cold bite at her.
Suddenly Fury stands in front of her, blanket still around her shoulders.
“What’s come over you? You won’t accept my help, you just brush me off and send me back to the couch.” A frown form on her face. “Are you alright?”
“I AM FINE!” Damsel snaps, her entire body shivering as she balls her fists and fails to contain her frustration, tears running down her cheeks.
A moment passes and she bursts into tears.
“I’m sorry, this is all my fault. You’re cold and it’s all my fault and I should have just stood up for us but I couldn’t because I was sleepy and now you’re mad at me and.. and...”
She covers her face with her hands as she’s wracked with sobs. Her muffled apologies echoing though the cold air. Fury’s frown transforms into wide eyes of surprise as she stands there, towering over Damsel, unmoving and uncertain of what to do.
Then, in a moment of bravery she wouldn’t have thought herself capable of, she gets down to Damsel’s level and hesitantly wraps her arms around her in a hug. It’s clumsy and awkward, with her movements jittery and the fear of hurting Damsel on the forefront of her mind.
Damsel’s breath hitches as Fury pulls her into the all encompassing hug. Her warm skin and flesh feeling like hot coals against Damsel face. She doesn’t know for how long they stay like this. It could be minutes or hours, she doesn’t care.
At the same time, Fury’s mind is racing as she tries to come up with the perfect thing to say and salvage whatever is happening here. She isn’t made for something like this.
She breaks off the hug, placing her hands on Damsel’s shoulders, not caring about dirtying her clothes with blood this time. Damsel’s big, wet eyes looking up at her expectantly, unsure of what she’s going to do next.
The silence stretches on as Fury struggles to form a sentence right now. Damsel is the first one to break it.
“Promise you wont be mad?” She pleads, her voice unsure and timid.
“I promise.” The pitch black pits of Fury’s eyes radiate concern.
Damsel heaves a sigh and starts talking, about the landlord, the boiler, the cold and the guilt. How all of it could have been prevented had she just been awake and not as much of a pushover and-
In the middle of her ramble, her chin suddenly rests on Fury’s shoulder as the tall, half skinned woman pulls her into another hug. Her blunt ribs poking Damsel’s chest, her exposed heart hammering against hers.
“Don’t place all this weight on your own shoulders.” Fury pleads as she breaks away. “Please, you’ve pushed yourself so far today. Can I do something for you this time?”
Silence answers her as Damsel looks away, unable to meet her gaze.
“Damsel!” Fury barks, more forcefully than she’d like.
“Can we cuddle!?” Damsel yelps back as she starts blushing despite it not even being the first time that she’s asked that particular question. Although usually without the rising pitch in tone and wide eyes.
“If not then that’s fine but I’m really cold and you’re really warm and I thought maybe we could help each other and-”
“Yes.” Fury answers curtly, recovered from her stunned silence.
A few minutes later they find themselves lying in Fury’s bed, the covers draped over them as Damsel shivers in Fury’s arms, her face pressed close against the skin just below Fury’s open ribcage. The short, blunt ribs threatening to scratch her but she doesn’t seem to mind as she’s content clinging onto Fury like her personal life raft.
She feels the heat radiating off of Fury, like holding a mug of hot tea when you’ve just came home from a blizzard. Almost scalding but leagues better than whatever came before. An itch forms on her cheek and without thinking she pushes it against one of Fury’s ribs, the rough corners perfectly suited for scratching without having to let go of her own personal space heater.
Fury’s eyes go wide at the sight, appalled at the thought that her grotesque form could be a source of comfort to anyone. She clenches her teeth as conflicted feeling float around her head.
Damsel nestles further into Fury’s ribcage, her face now almost pressed against her heart, the steady, deep rhythm eases the tension from her shoulders as she relaxes after the long and arduous day. A purr escapes her throat, softly vibrating through Fury’s chest.
“Are you comfortable? I can move if you wish.” Fury asks, her voice low as if fearful of waking the still awake Damsel.
“Very, you’re really warm.” Damsel replies as she lifts her head to look Fury in the eye, her eyes dart off to the side as if embarrassed.
“Could you… maybe run your fingers through my hair? I want to know what it feels like.”
“I’d probably only get it dirty, I don’t want to mess up your hair.” Fury replies apprehensively.
Then, with the a pang of guilt in her chest, Damsel grabs Fury’s skinned hand and places it on top of her head, the claws normally used for rending flesh now softly resting on her scalp, blood already leaking into Damsel’s hair.
“Please?” Damsel asks, puppy eyes looking into Fury’s.
“Fine.” Fury sighs, a small, wry smile on her face as Damsel nestles back next to her heart, purring happily as Fury slowly drags her fingers through her hair.