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“Umbrella!” Stelle cheerfully calls out as she flings her hat in March’s direction.
March stops in her tracks with a high-pitched squeak. Her right hand instinctively motions to nock an arrow that doesn’t exist. She fumbles, the handle of the umbrella nearly slipping between her fingers. March attempts to lift it in time even with her less than subpar stance.
The hat sails right into its canopy with an audible whack. The umbrella, however, unceremoniously flies right out of her hands and rolls across the floor.
Stelle fights back a snicker at March’s onset distraught. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts over to her. “You’re supposed to hold onto it, y’know! I don't think it’s gonna do you much good from down there!”
“Shut up, shut up!” March whines with a stamp of her foot. “You try wielding an unconventional weapon you’ve never used before!”
Stelle snaps a finger to summon her hat back to her hand. She tips it out in front of her and raises a brow at March.
March blinks once, twice, then throws her head back in an exasperated groan. “Ugh, you know what I mean! I don’t need that stupid thing anyway. I got a perfectly good bow and a pair of swords!”
“Aww, come on, March! That’s why we’re practicing!” Stelle strolls back over to her side with a grin. “Can’t you just ask Miss Pink and Mysterious for some tips? I don’t think we know anyone else that uses another weapon like it otherwise.”
“I did! I even did it while we were fighting!” March throws up her hands. “She was helping. Then started doing that super quiet chuckle thing that she does, so I called her a jerk and tuned her out! Then she got all quiet and left me alone to mope! You’re both cruel and heartless!”
“You can do it! Just give it another try. You know you want to! Here, I’ll even let you move first.”
“No, that’s not the point! This is all so dumb!” March whines while practically strangling the air in front of her. “I just don’t get it like Evernight does!”
“Show some more aggression with it then! Kick my ass! Pretend I just threw away all the merch you keep stashing under–“
Something black whizzes right past her cheek.
Stelle slowly turns to see March’s closed umbrella embedded in the wall behind her. Oh… wow. Did she just chuck it like a damn spear? She muses in awe that’s only a little sprinkled with dread.
“Dude?” Stelle snaps out of her daze in favor of whipping back around to meet March’s red and dangerously narrowed eyes. One hand was suspiciously raised from where she probably threw it. “Okay. Cool. That was good and all, but did you miss the part where I said pretend? Also, I said "be aggressive”, not try to behead me before I finish? Hello?”
She catches a glimpse of March flushing red before she hunches over and covers her entire face with both hands. “Oh Aeons… sorry, Stelle! I didn’t mean to throw it that hard, I promise!”
Stelle shakes her head and laughs. She figured March wasn’t trying to stage an assasination attempt. It doesn't make it any less hilarious to consider her first response was to try and use her umbrella like a javelin. Then again, she probably saw Stelle tossing her hat around and got a vague idea for that one.
Except her hat isn’t narrow and pointy. It also probably isn’t capable of impaling someone through the skull either.
“Hey! It’s not funny! Stop laughing at me!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Stelle lowers into a fit of snickers. She puts a thoughtful hand to her chin and points at March. “Keep that kinda energy for the next round though! If you don’t want to only use your umbrella, you can toss some jellyfish in with it again. Can’t knock your umbrella out of your hands if you have a bunch of memosprites hounding me.”
March throws her head back in an exaggerated groan, and recalls her umbrella back to her hand. She snaps with silver nails and materializes a jellyfish by her side.
“That’s the spirit!” Stelle pumps a fist. She summons her bat and rests it on her shoulder.
Sparring with March 7th always feels like a dance she’s rehearsed time and time again. However, throwing her new powers into the mix is like trying to predict new moves before they arrive. It throws off her pattern, thus making her way less predictable even if March isn’t entirely sure of what she’s doing herself.
So she mostly dodges, watches, waits, and tries to figure out whatever it is that March is trying to invent.
“Come on, March!” Stelle grins, shifting her weight to one foot as she narrowly dodges another jellyfish. “You can definitely do better than–“
What she’s not ready for is the end of a passing tentacle to whip across the bridge of her nose with an audible crack.
The hit not only abruptly snaps her head to the right, but also hits with enough force for her body to follow. Some of the leftover ice jutting out from the ground scrapes her skin straight through her shirt. She tries to use the momentum to get back onto her feet with a roll, but doesn’t have enough time. A loud metallic bang rings across the train car as Stelle slams into the wall back first. The only thing she hears afterward is the sound of her own winded wheezing and the rapidly approaching click of heels.
“Stelle?! Stelle! I didn’t… I wasn’t going to–“ she cries out, the red in her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m sorry! I’m so, so, so sorry! Are you okay?!”
Stelle squints as March’s adorable face leans over her, her pink hair almost dangling close enough to brush her cheek. The scarlet glow replacing her typically pink and blue eyes hardly matters when they carry the same lively shine regardless of form. Even while in her daze, all she can think about is how pretty March 7th is while mere inches away from her.
Like a pink angel arriving to guide me away in my dying moments. She thinks despite the fact that she’s clearly not in any sort of actual mortal peril.
The lack of response, however, apparently manages to upset her girlfriend even more. Awareness sparks in her mind as soon as one of March’s sniffles reaches her ears.
Stelle shakes her head slowly to chase away the thoughts of pink angels and dancing stars. Holy shit. She might as well just have gotten hit by a truck. At least she kinda feels like that’s what happened anyway. Her nose stings, her head throbs, and whatever is left of her t-shirt is suspiciously stuck to her back when she knows it’s not only from sweat.
“M’good,” Stelle finally manages to huff, “just needed a second to catch my breath.”
“Good?” March states incredulously. “Wh–Good?! I just hit you hard enough for you to go from the middle of the room to the wall in like… three seconds! It took you a whole minute to answer me, and… is that blood?!” She lurches forward with a shriek only to leave her hands hovering nervously around Stelle’s face.
“Huh?” Stelle blinks, swiping a thumb under her aching nose. Surely enough, a blotch of red clings to her glove. “Oh yeah. Guess I am. Doesn’t feel broken though, so don’t worry about me getting a crooked nose!” She chirps way too giddily.
March clenches her hands into fists, gaze diverting for a moment before landing back on Stelle. She opens her mouth and closes it as if fighting for something to say. All she ends up doing is sighing as she extends a hand out to Stelle, who was sitting with her back pressed against the wall.
Stelle reaches out for her hand, but bites back a grunt of pain as something snags at the skin on her back with an accompanying quiet tear of fabric. It’s almost as if something was jabbing directly into her back deep enough to leave her with a constant sting. She jerks her body forward to grasp March’s hand, effectively yanking herself free from whatever it was caught on in one swift motion. March helps her back onto her feet, oblivious to the brief agony Stelle made sure to mask.
That… probably wasn’t good.
If her shirt wasn’t stuck to her back before, whatever is left of it definitely is now.
“I should’ve been so much more careful! I shouldn’t have pulled a fast one on you like that while I’m still learning! Evernight warned me that it might take a little for me to know my strength, but I didn’t think I was capable of doing that!” March tightly grips Stelle’s hand as she rants.
She fights off a frown once she notices March’s hands are trembling.
“Hey, March, chill!” Stelle laughs it off to hide a wince because damn now her back actually does ache. “I’m fine! It’ll take more than being knocked on my ass to actually hurt me. You scored a good hit, so you should be proud about that!”
“But I didn’t mean to do that! I’m so sorry!”
Stelle jogs over to where she left her jacket, careful to not turn her back on March. She hastily throws it on, hiding a wince as it settles against what’s left of her shirt. “Don’t sweat it! We can just call it here and pick back up on it another time. Maybe you can get Evernight to physically walk you through it next time instead of us jumping straight to fighting.”
March’s shoulders sag, but she at least retains a bit of hopefulness with a nod. “Yeah… yeah! I’ll probably ask her about that after she’s done sulking. Thank you for helping me out today though. I promise I won’t fling you into the wall next time unless it’s on purpose!”
“I’ll hold you to it!” Stelle gives her a thumbs up. “Let’s get back to the main car. All that “getting my ass kicked” kinda got me hungry.”
March huffs and rolls her eyes, but doesn’t comment. She does, however, start heading toward the door at the end of the car.
Before following, Stelle casts one final glance at the wall behind her.
A single screw pokes through one of the panels. Dark maroon slowly drips off the metal and splashes into the tiny drying puddle below it.
Fuck. Stelle hisses internally. She discreetly adjusts her jacket so that it doesn’t rest flat on her back. Guess I found the culprit.
It’s fine. It’s just a couple scrapes and bruises. It’ll probably be healed up and forgotten by the end of the week. She’s had way worse than that and walked it off by the next day. Besides, what March doesn’t know won’t hurt her. All it would do is stress her out if she knew.
She’ll just patch it up later in the privacy of her own bathroom away from prying eyes. Out of sight, out of mind, and definitely no guilt involved.
By later, Stelle apparently meant never because she somehow forgot about it. It wasn’t until she lied on her back that pain shot through her again like a stupidly delayed reminder. Considering that she’s usually a back sleeper, not being able to sleep that way kind of sucks.
She’s lucky that she managed to haphazardly throw on a random shirt after they left the training car. March only looked at her a little weird when she ran off to her room afterwards. The excuse that she needed to shower must’ve been passable enough.
Stelle did actually shower, but she didn’t wrap up nor even bother to properly treat her back. She should’ve done it then, but of course she somehow had to make things harder for herself. Her excuse was that it was in a really dumb spot to reach with it being right in the center of her back. Disinfecting it was one thing she made sure to do, but everything else?
No way, too hard, and too much effort when she’d heal it off in a day or two anyway.
As if she was going to ask anyone to take care of it for her otherwise. Now she actively has to worry about not waking up the peacefully sleeping March 7th right next to her.
Good going, Stelle. She berates herself. She’s going to eviscerate you if she wakes up. She’s also going to kill you if you let it get infected, Stellaron-boosted healing or not. The ice wasn’t dirty but do you even know where that screw in the wall has been?
It’s not like she can just ignore the constant throb pulsating from between her shoulder blades and down to the center of her back. Getting cut by March’s ice was one thing, but having some nasty old screw poking around in the wound is another. Who knows the last time Himeko did maintenance on the walls within that car.
At least the screw didn’t look rusty or anything when she glanced at it. She doesn’t particularly want to find out if space tetanus is actually a thing or just a running joke on the Express.
Creeping to the bathroom isn’t really an issue. She’s done it before when she just has to go in the middle of the night and doesn’t want to wake March on the way. Stelle could probably close her eyes and make it right to the sink without tripping over her own feet.
Except she really, really doesn’t want to risk slipping on a random object right now.
She walks carefully, extra light on her feet so the creak of the floor and thump of her own footsteps don’t echo across the room.
The door slides mostly shut behind her, only a small gap remaining. It’s pretty noisy when she shuts it all the way, plus she has to come back out and that’s usually more unnecessary noise. She also leaves the big overhead lights switched off. No need for that to leak out into her room either.
The light around the bathroom mirror is all she needs. Just one quick look to make sure it’s not bleeding or something from her tossing and turning in her sleep. It only takes a few strides to make it to the mirror. Her fingers curl the edges of the sink as she leans forward and winks at herself in the reflection.
Skin isn’t pale. Not sweaty either. There’s a distinct irritated red streak across her nose from where she was struck, but it didn’t actually break the skin.
…or her nose. She’s more happy about that one.
Mostly fine other than the fact that her back aches to all hell.
Guess that means I have to move on to the fun part. She muses at herself but can’t stop the grimace from slipping onto her face.
Stelle grabs the hem of her shirt and motions to pull it over her head. She gets about halfway up before a bolt of pain shoots through her body. The shirt flops thwacks against the sink as she yanks it off of her the rest of the way with gritted teeth. On the bright side, there wasn’t any blood nor sweat causing the fabric to stick to her skin this time!
Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
Stelle was sleeping on it for a bit, so she should probably at least check the damage out if it’s doing all that when all she did was take off her shirt.
A shirt that wasn’t even all that tightly fitting, by the way!
She angles her back so that it reflects in the mirror. An angry bruise marred in various shades of blues and purples stood out against her partially tanned skin. Amidst it all was one big, jagged cut running from the mid left of back to right in between her shoulder blades. There were several other much smaller scrapes and scratches, but most of them looked as if they were healing in the typical speedy way her wounds tend to do.
All except that one damn big cut that she just had to make worse by getting caught on a protruding screw.
It also didn’t help that the countless bruises from hitting the wall made it look like a pure mess.
Well, shit. No wonder I couldn’t sleep on it.
Stelle bites back a frustrated groan. It aches, it’s sore, and it looks like absolute ass. The only good part about all this is that the big slice running across her back is somewhat healing. Not really as quickly as she’d like it to, but at least she won’t have to stitch it back shut.
Maybe she should just… wrap it up? No stitches. No thanks.
Quiet footsteps shuffle in from behind. The sliding door echoes across the bathroom as a prelude to the bathroom light flicking on.
Oh no.
“Stelle? Why’d you get out of–“ March’s sleepy voice mumbles from behind her only to stop, voice sobering on the spot. “…What is that.”
It’s definitely not phrased like a question.
Double oh no. This sucks big time. She did not hear the muted shuffling of March’s slippers over her own self-assessment until it was already too late.
Stelle yelps and lunges forward to grab her shirt back off the sink. She scrambles to put it on, cursing as her chipped nails catch on the fabric every step of the way. The shirt rubs against the wound as well as her bruises the entire way down. The rushed nature of it all throws her off balance, leading her to stumble backwards. She knocks right into March, who presses her hands against Stelle’s back to keep them both from tumbling over each other.
This, of course, elicits a sound somewhere between a sharp hiss and a whine through Stelle’s clenched teeth.
…So much for being discreet.
Stelle lets out a single, short whistle as she composes herself. “Geez, March, you scared me! Guess I really can’t help falling for you, can I? Twice in one day is a little much even for me, don’t you think?” She spins around with a snicker, but the only sight to greet her is March’s mortified stare.
“Take off your shirt.”
Haha, oh shit. She’s absolutely busted.
“Woah!” Stelle takes a couple steps back. “Moving a little fast today, Miss March 7th! Can you at least ask me out to dinner first? Maybe even put on a movie?”
“Don’t play coy with me, Stelle! Take your shirt off!” March demands, this time reaching for the hem of it herself.
Stelle wants to laugh it off, dismiss it again as nothing at all, but she can’t. Not with the hauntedness clouding March’s eyes.
So of course, she gives in.
“Alright, alright, but please don’t freak out! It’s not as bad as it looks!”
“You–What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Uh, you see…” Stelle winces as she grabs her tank top and goes to pull it back over her head again. “It kinda… looks really awful, but it doesn’t actually feel that bad? Nothing I can’t sleep off in a couple days, so don’t worry about it,” she turns around and tosses it onto the floor. “Uh, March? You alright?” She glances up at the reflection of her girlfriend in the mirror.
March peers not exactly at her, but rather at her exposed back. A trembling hand covers her mouth. Tears begin to bead in her eyes as she responds, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Did I… do that to you?”
Stelle wastes no time rotating back and pulling March into a hug. “Hey,” Stelle mumbles softly into her hair, “I told you not to freak out, dummy. We were sparring, and sometimes shit just happens during that. It’s no big deal, I’m fine!”
March’s hands remained poised skittishly away from her skin. Her form trembles beneath Stelle’s touch. An impossibly icy tear splashes onto Stelle’s back and travels down her spine. It’s a little hard to process that the coldness of it was almost as soothing on her bruises as it was generally distressing that March is crying.
Stelle only holds her tighter, making sure to snuggle her cheek into the crook of March’s shoulder.
“I’m still sorry,” March croaks pathetically into Stelle’s hair. “It’s… it’s just ironic! I was supposed to be learning how to use these so I can protect you, but all I ended up doing was hurting you instead. You didn’t even tell me,” she sniffles, “you didn’t say anything, and I wasn’t paying enough attention to notice!”
Her tone splits Stelle’s heart in two. Guilt follows without a moment’s hesitation.
“I didn’t tell you cause I knew you’d think too hard about it,” Stelle sighs, “thought I could just play tough guy, but then I lost the fight to my mattress when I woke up aching like hell. Then I realized taking care of any back injury by yourself is stupidly impossible.”
“I still should’ve–“
Stelle breaks away from March and taps her on the forehead with a finger. “Don’t be so hard on yourself! You could’ve done a lot of things, but guess who’s the one that egged you on, got her ass kicked, and then was too stubborn to mention it? Then again, it was also really awesome and kinda hot when you effortlessly launched me into–“
Hands grab at her cheeks and roughly tugs her entire head downwards. March’s lips hastily crash into her own before Stelle can process the movement. It’s only for a moment, but it shuts her up in an instant. Stelle, ever the sucker that she is, only manages to blink at March with wide eyes after her girlfriend pulls away and lets her go.
“You’re an idiot,” March croaks under her breath, “a big, stupid, self-sacrificial idiot.”
The string of insults only draws out Stelle’s usual smirk. “Forgetting a couple important adjectives there, love. Care to remember to add handsome and dashing next time somewhere between “stupid” and “idiot”? Thanks!”
March huffs, but it’s way too watery. At least it’s leagues better than another near sob. “S-Sure,” her voice wavers, but it’s more confident than before, “I’ll file those right next to egocentric next time.”
“Ouch. I’ll take it, I guess.”
March hastily wipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her pajama shirt. She lowers her arm afterwards and settles her gaze into a low glare. She’s not looking past Stelle or anything, she’s quite literally staring her dead in the eyes.
Confusion and a bit of nervousness swims in her chest. For once, a quip doesn’t easily come to mind. By the time she thinks of anything to say back to her, March beats her to the punch.
“I’m… I’m still mad, you know.”
Stelle tilts her head and points at herself, sort of taken aback. “At me, or is that a stupid question to ask right now?”
March just stares at her, gaze unwavering.
“…Okay, so, I'm leaning towards that being a stupid question then? My bad.”
March deflates with a sigh. “That’s not what I–“ she starts only for it to fall into a frustrated growl. March momentarily gives up and walks past her, her sleeve brushing Stelle’s arm.
Now she’s even more confused.
A cold hand gently touches her back. An icy cold sensation spreads from the contact point.
Stelle quite literally shrieks while jumping an entire foot forward. “March, what the fuck?!” She spins to face her girlfriend with nothing but betrayal surging through her.
March’s expression isn’t remotely apologetic whatsoever. She frowns and waggles frost-covered fingers at Stelle. “Of course I’m mad at you. I’m mad that you decided to be stupid by hiding this from me. I’m also mad at myself though for letting it happen in the first place! Before you say anything, I know accidents happen, but I’m allowed to be a little frustrated about it,” March huffs, yet her gaze softens. “Now come back over here and let me ice your bruise and treat your cuts, dummy. It’s the least I can do for literally beating you black and blue.”
Stelle eyes her skeptically, but she knows better than to argue. If March did have any kind of ulterior motives then she’d probably deserve it. “Okay, okay,” Stelle strolls back over and jabs a thumb at the door. “Would it be easier to do this while sitting on my bed though?”
March purses her lips but nods. “Yeah, that’s probably the smarter idea. I’ll grab your first-aid kit and meet you over there in a second.”
“Sounds good,” Stelle nods in return. However, as she turns to leave the bathroom, March clears her throat from somewhere behind her. “Uh, can I help you?” She asks while catching March in the corner of her eye.
March places her hands on her hips, one eyebrow noticeably raised. “If I’m gonna patch you up, you better take off your sports bra by the time I get there. I want to actually get to all of your back. Don’t even try to say it’s not that far up either. I can already see some of it running under the bottom and peeking out above it.”
Stelle snickers and opens her mouth.
“Hey, I saw that smirk! No funny business, Stelle. We’re not doing this again. I mean it! I’m serious!”
…and promptly snaps it back shut.
Stelle proceeds to pretend to sulk the rest of the way out of the bathroom. The sulking, however, apparently isn’t stronger than her ability to spout whatever the hell she wants. “The idea of being topless in front of you is so terrible! Why would I ever want to do that?” Stelle sighs loudly as she plops down onto the side of her bed.
“I heard that! I literally just said no funny business!”
She huffs as March’s pink head of hair pokes out from the doorway of the bathroom.
Stelle slips her sports bra off with a surprising amount of difficulty. Just like before, the fabric tugs at the skin on her back as she pulls it over her head. The offending article of clothing smacks into the ground as Stelle carelessly tosses it aside. It was somehow considerably worse than when she took off her shirt, but that’s probably because it was tighter against her skin.
A chill creeps in without it on, but it’s not like it’s anything she’s not used to. Unfortunately for her, it’s one thing to be casually topless in her own room and another when her girlfriend demands it for a practical reason.
The mark of her Stellaron running down her bare chest faintly glows in the dark. It’s almost funny that it’s sort of useless if an injury she has isn’t life-threatening.
Minor regenerative abilities are better than none at all, I guess.
Stupid back, stupid bruises. stupid nail, stupid ice, stupid Stellaron, but never stupid March. There was a certain warmth in her heart that couldn’t be replaced at the thought of March being the one to patch her up even if she did technically cause the injuries to begin with.
March pops back up again, Stelle’s small first-aid kit tucked under one arm. “Geez, you’d think this would be easier to find considering how often you land yourself in awful situations. What’s up with that?” March complains. “Do we need to tell Dan Heng that you’re slacking in the “supplies to keep me from flatlining on a near daily basis” department?”
“Would you believe me if I said I go through like one of these a month?” Stelle smiles at her innocently.
March is less than impressed. She shakes her head and wordlessly hops back onto the bed. She sits crisscross behind Stelle, the med kit placed methodically off to the side for later. A shocked whizz of air puffs from March. It may as well be like a small draft hitting her skin.
Yikes. That means she probably got a better look at it instead of what she briefly saw in the more dim bathroom lighting.
Stelle turns her head as far as she can to try to see her without actually turning her body. “Okay, before you start criticizing me, just know that I did at least clean and disinfect the cuts when we got done. Yes, even the big one!” Stelle tries to defend herself, but even she knows it comes out a bit weak.
“And then you didn’t bother to wrap it up?!”
“That’s because it hurt like a bitch to clean earlier! Also, do you know how hard it is to wrap something that far up my back where I can’t see? I just threw a shirt back on and said whatever.”
March pokes her several times on the earlobe. “And that wasn’t your clue that you needed someone else to help?” Annoyance crawls into her voice as she retorts.
She’s not wrong, but that doesn’t mean Stelle has to like it. She crosses her arms in front of her chest and childishly sticks out her tongue. “You’re helping now so it’s fine.”
“Uh huh. Right, that’s totally what you originally had planned when you did that,” March shoots back dryly. “Speaking of which, I’m going to work on icing your really bad looking bruises again. Don’t even think about launching away from me this time!”
Stelle nearly goes rigid at the thought alone.
She’s used to temperate fluctuations on most parts of the front of her body. Her Stellaron kind of does that an annoying amount on its own. Then pair that with March being March using her own personalized cooling methods. Anywhere from her back to her shoulders are an entirely different story.
It’s not her fault the area is super sensitive!
“Can you stop ogling at my back and get it over with? You’re making me so nervous sitting all exposed from the waist up in front of you,” Stelle snarks over her shoulder with a grin.
March scans her up and down once and rolls her eyes. “Stelle, I’ve seen you wear less. Heck, I’ve slept next to you wearing less! This is modest, especially for you. Don’t be such a baby!”
March has a point, but it doesn’t make it any less humorous.
“How scandalous of–ack!“
Stelle earns a nice pair of freezing cold hands between her shoulder blades. She has half the thought to careen forward off the bed, except she’d rather not face March’s wrath for doing so.
“Aww, you do listen to me sometimes!” March traces a circle around the middle of her back. “Good–“ a short giggle interrupts her, “good girl!” She barely manages to tease before fully breaking off into a fit of light-hearted snickering.
She might’ve said it mockingly, but it doesn’t keep Stelle from side-eyeing March while flushing red to her ears. “Wh–Dude! Are you even aware of what you’re saying?” Stelle barks over her shoulder. “Now who’s up to funny business? I’m starting to think you’re doing this to me on purpose!”
“Hey, it distracted you long enough for me to ice your bruises, now didn’t it?” March wipes a hand beneath her eye, nothing but a beaming smile plastered on her face.
As much as Stelle doesn’t want to admit it, March is very much right. After the initial touch, she kind of honed in on March’s words rather than her actions. The aching receded into something far more dull compared to how it was earlier.
“But… did you have to say that?” Stelle raises a brow. “Really?”
Disregard the fact entirely that Stelle did unironically like it, but March does not need that tidbit of info.
March silently stares at her again, her giggly humor evaporating in an instant. Stelle watches inch by inch as her girlfriend gets more and more flustered. She nudges March’s foot with her elbow. Her dual-colored gaze shifts off Stelle entirely.
“W-Well! It sounded good at the time! And… and! It worked! So, it doesn’t matter anymore! There!” March crosses her arms and huffs.
“Sorry, I just didn’t know you were into that. Guess I’ll keep that in mind for later.”
“Can you–“ March makes a sort of cute sounding growl, “whatever! Just let me bandage that stupid wound so it doesn’t get infected and so we can go back to bed!”
Stelle snorts and shakes her head.
March holds the roll of bandages up between her and Stelle’s back. Her nose scrunches as she scrutinizes whatever she has going on in her head. She taps her cheek in thought, even going as far as titling her head to try and make sense of things.
“Are you having technical difficulties?” Stelle raises her brow again.
“Yes and no,” she shrugs, “I’m trying to figure out what all to wrap. It really only looks.. um, deep, towards the middle? It’s a weird sort of deeper slit that I definitely gotta cover. The rest isn’t as bad, it’s just that one spot?”
Oh. Oops. She kind of sort of forgot about the whole nail in the wall thing. Her bigger scrape probably wouldn’t have been as long if she didn’t… carelessly free herself from the wall.
“Okay, so, there was an incident with the wall I hit?”
“…What kind of incident?”
“Small object sticking out of the wall and then into me kind of incident? Wasn’t really a big deal at the time. I toughed it out and yanked myself off it without a problem!”
“You what?!“ March’s voice somehow rises three pitches higher than normal.
Great, now she’s in trouble for like the third time in one day. Stelle slumps over as if accepting her defeat.
“Keep your back straight!” March scolds and lightly flicks a part of her back.
Stelle yelps and straightens her posture. “You’re so mean! Whatever happened to asking nicely?” She whines, but doesn’t dare to turn around.
“I’m trying! It’s really hard to be nice when you’re actively trying to stress me into an early grave!
Again, fair point.
Contrary to what she was saying, March gently wraps the bandages around her midsection. She passes the roll from hand to hand, but stops once the bandages are just shy of halfway covering chest. March softly hums in thought from behind her.
“Um… I think I might cross it over your shoulders? I don’t want it to be really binding and make you more uncomfortable. I also want to make sure the bad part stays covered though, so I’m not sure if that works either...”
Stelle stretches her elbow back to nudge March’s arm. “You’re way too anxious over this. Are you telling me or asking for permission?”
“Both, kinda?” March settles her empty hand on Stelle’s shoulder, her thumb stroking her skin. “Just want you to know what I’m doing so I know if you’re okay with it. Promise I’m not like… being weird!”
“March, I can assure you that you could do a lot of things to me right now and I wouldn’t complain.”
“Can you be appropriate for five minutes?!” March hisses right in her ear.
She notably doesn’t remove her hand from Stelle’s shoulder.
Amusement sparks in Stelle’s chest. It’s always endearing to see how easy it is to get her flustered over offhanded comments. You’d think she’d get used to them, but she apparently never does.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I love you and I know you’re just trying to take care of me,” Stelle places a hand overtop of March’s and pats it a couple times. “You can just wrap the whole thing to be safe. I swear I don’t mind! Nothing you do could ever actually bother me.”
March lifts both of their hands and softly kisses Stelle’s knuckles. “I love you too, but you’re such a sap,” she mutters, yet the warmth in her tone is unmistakable.
“Yeah, your sap,” Stelle corrects.
March huffs in response, her breath stirring the stray strands of hair resting on Stelle’s shoulder. Unfortunately, March lets her hand go in order to continue where she left off. She goes to brush Stelle’s hair out of the way, but Stelle beats her to it by pushing the stragglers over her shoulders so that it all rests in the front.
She meticulously wraps the bandage around her chest. It doesn’t take much, and it doesn’t take very long either. Not with the way March’s hands move with an indescribable level of comfortability mixed with familiarity. It’s enough to hold the bandages in place, yet not too much to where it digs into her skin every time she breathes.
Arms circle her stomach while a chin plops onto Stelle’s shoulder. “All done,” she mumbles amidst a yawn. “If it’s too tight, just let me know. The last thing I want to do is make things worse.”
“Nah, it’s perfect! Thank you, love,” Stelle tips her head to the side to partially rest it on March’s head of light pink hair.
March laughs in her usual short giggly way, but something is absent, more distant than normal. There’s a somber undertone to it that Stelle can’t really place compared to how she typically sounds. To make matters worse, she draws away from Stelle entirely without a word.
It’s… unusual. Way too unusual for Stelle to ignore.
Stelle flips around and pulls her legs up onto the bed so she can sit on her knees. March, however, barely reacts outside of the smallest tilt of her head. She picks at her shorts, gaze noticeably avoidant no matter how much Stelle searches for it.
“March?” Stelle tries.
March hunches a little, fingers curling in the soft fabric of her pajama pants.
“March,” she tries again, but far more sternly.
March’s head shoots up like a deer in headlights. “Ah, I’m sorry!” she squeaks, “I just got lost in thought for a second there!”
It’s not like that was hard to figure out, but she won’t comment on it if it saves March an ounce of her dignity.
“It’s alright, sleepyhead! I did wake you up in the middle of the night. I’d be more surprised if you were wide awake and talking my head off,” Stelle jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.
March wilts on the spot. “That’s kind of the problem!” Her voice drops until it’s barely audible. “You wouldn’t have had to wake me up if I was more careful.”
…Oh. She should’ve seen that one coming from a mile away. Stelle doesn’t blame her for what happened, but she forgot to consider that March blames herself for doing it.
“It’s not your fault, you know.”
March hums uncertainly while chewing on the inside of her cheek. Stelle reaches forward and grabs her hands before she has a chance to start fidgeting with anything else. She squeaks mutedly in response, but her eyes do finally lock with Stelle’s.
“I’m fine, you’re fine, and I’d train your Remembrance powers with you again if you asked me to!” Stelle squeezes March’s hands reassuringly. “Plus, you still patched me up even though I was being stupid and stubborn about it. If it’s your fault, then guess what! It’s mine too!” she snickers, “it’s only fair if we share the blame, huh?”
March properly threads her fingers with Stelle’s, a soft smile gracing her face. “I guess we’re both dummies then, aren’t we?”
“I don’t think you need me to tell you that,” Stelle winks and snickers, “It’s kind of a miracle that the train doesn’t just burst into flames when they leave us both on here for too long. Just don’t ask Dan Heng! We’ll both be mad when he agrees!”
A soft snrk slips from March as if she was trying to hold it back. She blinks at Stelle for a moment before her smile breaks into a small grin of her own. Stelle laughs at her, but to her surprise, March joins right in. It’s a beautiful sound that Stelle wishes would continue to echo in her ears even after they stop. Gone is the underlying uncertainty she detected before, her normal, cheeryness finally weaseling its way back in.
They stare at each other, and in that moment, Stelle wants to do nothing more than to just get lost in March’s sparkling eyes. It doesn’t last as the somberness of the night slowly settles back in.
“I’m gonna go put this away then snuggle back up under the blankets,” March says with another quiet yawn. She hops off the bed and tucks the first-aid kit back under her arm. She casts one glance over her shoulder that plucks gingerly at Stelle’s heartstrings. “Just know that if you ever get hurt, whether it be by anyone else or even me, I’ll always be there to patch you up. I know you’d do the same for me without asking, so please just let me return the favor, okay? I want to be there for you, I will be there for you; I-I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me.”
It’s a verbal arrow straight through the Stellaron in her chest if she’s ever heard one.
Stelle inhales a long, drawn-in breath and exhales slowly. Seeing March’s gaze follow her with nothing but love undermining her sternness set her heart aflame every time. She thinks of March’s tender and guiding touch grazing her bruised and battered skin even while upset by Stelle’s actions as well as her own. It was stupid of her to expect the worst reaction out of March, really. She’s always been stronger than she looks, and far too forgiving for her own good.
Hands capable of causing destruction will always possess the means to wrought love and protection. The same goes the other way around, as one can’t exist without the other. It’s a lesson she’s still learning, and one March is inadvertently helping to teach.
In her heart, there’s no one better that she’d rather learn it from anyway.
So when Stelle perks up with one last tired grin, an endeared glint lighting the depths of her golden eyes, she says a short yet confident “I will,” and means it.