(hilda/lys) apartment AU snippets #2

Lysithea felt her rest was comfortable. She usually toss and turn during her sleep with fever, or at times she would wake up many times after trying hard to sleep, accompanied with pounding headache. Her sleep just now might be dreamless, though she thought it was the longest, worth-while sleep she ever experienced. She was awake groggy. The residual fever remained, but then, as she was content, it is all that matter.

“Sleep well?”

Lysithea replied Hilda’s question with a nod.

Hilda was there, holding her close just like how she remembered before she drifted off. Hilda held a book with one hand while she coddle Lysithea by the other. The sky outside the window has yet to be darkened, the remnant of bluish orange hue as a sign that the night soon is coming stayed there. The prospect to be seen sleeping has been embarrassing for Lysithea, not to mention if she happened to sleep restlessly. But she knew Hilda won’t mind.

The leftovers from when Hilda made her porridge and helped her to meds were stacked on the floor.

“So, how about a bath? I’ll wipe you down before I prep for dinner.”

Lysithea blinked, unsure to response. A change of clothes should be nice, though she have tied Hilda with her selfishness (and neediness, she must add) for long enough already, while she has yet to rest after her trip.

“I …”

“You sure never change, huh? I already say so many times that it is okay to ask me for anything~” Hilda spared a cheeky grin, as though she has read Lysithea. “You are never a burden, Lys.”

The reassurance was quite enough. Usually, Lysithea would argue. Thinking back of how she has stopped Hilda earlier on one of her whims (the kiss, oh, her face slightly burns at remembering), she digressed.

“W-Well then …”

The pinkette seemed to not let go even for long to tidy stuff. Hilda kissed the crown of Lysithea’s head before she got up, “I’ll go fetch the water. And, oh, you won’t mind if I picked your clothes, also your undies—“

“Just—just get to work on it!” beet red, Lysithea pushed her away.

“Aye aye, ma’am.”

---


Hilda was back with a bowl of lukewarm water and two fresh towels. She set down the bowl by the table on the right side of the bed, then Hilda shuffled for the change of clothes. The pinkette told Lysithea to undress but she was somehow alerted, especially to the fact that Hilda got a face full of glee as she re-entered the bedroom.

“Please, just pajamas, not something outrageous.”

“When exactly I ever dress you in something outrageous?” Hilda didn’t turn away from skimming the wardrobe’s content. Lysithea was worried. “But oh, this might be a nice chance for me to put you up with sexy—”

“Hilda.”

Hilda laughed. Lysithea’s groan fell to deaf ears. “Now, now. Go undress, I’ll start from your back.”

Lysithea sat near the edge of the bed. She turned so that Hilda won’t find any difficulties moving back and forth to dip the towel on the lukewarm water. She felt a creak on the bed as Hilda sat behind her, the new pair of pajama laid near the pillow. Lysithea waited as Hilda wordlessly wrung the damp towel before proceeding with the wiping.

“Mm!”

“Is it too hot?”

“O-Oh, no. It just … feels different. It’s nice.”

Lysithea can feel Hilda’s sigh of relief brushing against her ear. “Tell me whether it is too hot or something.”

Words to describe Hilda as she is immersed in her work are thorough and meticulous. At first, Lysithea will never think Hilda can be defined as such. Her free-spirited manner and teasing personality, also her outlook in appearance were polar opposite of Lysithea. One might say she’s lazy, cheeky, or someone who used looks as their weapon (for this one, Lysithea is not wrong, though) from the initial impression. As time marches on, though, Lysithea was there to see the surprise.

Hilda is, in fact, a dedicated woman—be it to her work, or to her personal life.

The pinkette did her wiping slow, making sure that the towel retained a right amount of water or else she would wring it again. She stopped just on the waistband of Lysithea’s pajama, tilting close to reach her abdomen.

“... Will you let me wipe the front, too?” Hilda’s voice was smaller, slower. As though it is a plea. Then again, Lysithea knew it wasn’t a plea. They are threading a dangerous line here and Lysithea can tell what Hilda might feel without having to turn around and see her.

Hilda is holding herself back. And, no, Lysithea has kept her away from giving out her germs by kissing, she shouldn’t tease Hilda too much for her own good.

“I’ll wipe it myself.”

“Okay.”

Lysithea didn’t waste too much time. She then slip on the new set of pajama and gave the used towel to Hilda, who was wearing a flat expression. It wasn’t an anger, though it is unreadable at best.

Two weeks they have been apart from each other, only to reunite while Lysithea is sick. It’s never been a pleasant thing to be this close but unable to enjoy each other’s comfort.

“Hilda.”

“Hmm?”

The pinkette was busy rinsing the damp towel near the now cold bowl of water as Lysithea sneaked up her arm to the latter’s waist in attempt of a hug. She ran her thumb on the exposed skin of Hilda’s shoulder before settling for a chaste press of lips.

“… Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Lysithea.” Hilda chuckled. “Just hurry up and be healthy, then we can be out for little date before weekend ends.”

Lysithea rested her head to Hilda’s back, reeled on the flex of muscle from the languid movement of Hilda’s hands and scapula, also reeled on the warmth of the hug while waited for her to be done with cleaning.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“Soup is fine. I think I can walk better to the living room now.”

“Great, we can watch something while we’re at it, then.”

“Tell me about your trip.”

“Of course.”