papalobo | Day 265 - Friday, September 12th

Save?

The text said they were moving forward with the plan against him.

[ He at least struggles enough to look up at him. ]

I used to know you wouldn't have, but you came here.

[ For him, Ash knows. ]

[He'll let him, if he really seems to want to. With his face face, any expression he has to pull will have to be as intentional as a puppeteer moving a marionette's arm, meaning the face that stares down at him looks unduly cross.]

I suspect he saved himself. As far as I know, nothing happened to him.

[ But it's funny. Ash can almost imagine the face Blanca would make, and seeing the juxtaposition over the 'officer's' face actually makes him laugh before he drops his head back down. This time, his eyes close. ]

Thanks for coming.

[The smile is too faint to translate into his mask without intentionally doing so, as well. He strokes Ash's hair again, while on the outside looking as if he's about to bellow out a terse insult.]

[ In spite of the disguise, Blanca is warm and solid. For the first time since he'd been pushed into the table and forced to take yet another man, Ash feels safe. Even the hospital wasn't safe. Now, in Blanca's lap, he's all but invincible.

Still, the sleep that takes him isn't intentional. ]

[When Ash wakes up, his position seems unchanged, despite all of the signs that he must have moved. For example, Blanca is again Blanca; he looks like Blanca, he's dressed like Blanca in overly well pressed slacks that clash a little much with the soft t-shirt that's trying to be casual, he has the faint woody smell of one of Blanca's colognes. In his hand is one of the books from Ash's library. On the table are two glasses of warm brandy, along with the bottle. There's a weighted blanket laid over Ash to help him feel further secure in his rest. Such changes probably didn't happen without Ash having had to have been moved at some point.]

[ His hair is a mess. As Ash pushes himself to a sitting position and wipes at the sleep in his eyes, his hair alone makes it obvious that he's had a nap. ]

Hn. What time is it?

A bit after seven.

[His eyes flicker from the book to that hair, tempted beyond temptation to stroke it again, to make it messier still as much as to straighten it. It's a vulnerable and comfortable look at him. Ash is nothing if not desirable in every possible way. How he longs to keep him in a state of sleepiness, not yet letting the reality beyond his rest close back in.]

[ No, he decides. His head falls back down. The words are mumbled into Blanca's thigh so they're a bit hard to hear, but it is Blanca.]

Got to take my medicine.

[His bedhead of hair is there begging for his attention, but he remains cordial.]

Is it in your car on on your person?

Car.

[ Ash's voice is stick thick with sleep. ]

Didn't trust the cop not to take it.

Should I get it for you, or bring you with me?

I'll get up.

[ Get it for me ]

[Setting the book down, he gently slides out from being Ash's pillow, settling him down against the arm cushion of the couch instead, tugging the blanket further up over his neck to urge him to stay down.]

Why am I being tucked in?

[He lets himself selfishly stroke that hair once as he turns to leave.]

[ He sits up with a sigh. He was definitely being babied and while it's nice when he wants it, it's embarrassing when he doesn't. Isn't that how all emotions work?

Ash watches his back. He misses Max. That is a truth that can't be replaced. He worries for him now, and it's only Max's feelings that keeps him from following through with Blanca's idea.

But he might have fallen more for this assassin than he meant to. ]

[It's a broad back, vanishing towards the entryway, the faint cologne already quickly gone with his presence. Ash hears the door open and close, once, twice, but his return isn't immediate. It's about five full minutes before Blanca returns, with a tray holding a spread of unrolled wraps with a six color salad spread pre-loaded into each, with quinoa, three colors of peppers, slices of green apples, purple cabbage, crisp bacon bits, tofu chunks seasoned in blackened garlic oil, egg whites, egg yolks in various states of hard and soft, and three home made dressings or to drizzle or dip as his whims desire. Assuming Ash would have little appetite, the aim is to make every bite interesting enough to keep going, different in texture, in flavor, while providing all essential vitamins and nutrients, in an easy to handle form that isn't hard to digest. There's also a cup of earl gray tea with a mixture of cinnamon and cocoa faintly seeped in.]

Some of your medication is best taken with food, it seems.

[ Several bottles rest inside of the bag waiting in the car. There's a pain medication along with two antibiotics; the guards only made the infection worse, and it's internal. There's also a sleeping aid. It seems like Ash doesn't need it tonight.

As for the spread... This is impressive, even for Blanca. ]

...

[ Ash means to say something. It should be annoying for how over the top it is, but damn it, it's just impressive. ]

[He sets don the spread as if bringing in a basic hospital tray, settling back down beside him and beginning to look over his medication bottles again, opening and setting out appropriate doses, setting aside those not meant to be taken together to be saved for later, preparing to set him on a schedule.

He assumes the silence is from Ash still being sleep hazy, which earns a private smile he might not be so annoyingly openly endeared with if he'd realized Ash was now wholly cognizant.]

[ Sometimes, it's better to stay silent he decides for the first time. Blanca is waiting on him hand and foot, and in a way that's far beyond the minimum. The food looks so good that Ash finds himself a little hungry.

Max probably isn't eating well.

So much for being a little hungry. But he does need to eat. Reaching out, he pulls the tray closer. ]

[Knowing the appetite of an Ash is a delicate thing, the first thing to break down in his body when his heart's breaking alone is not sufficient destruction for the pain life puts him through, Blanca chooses not to force him into small talk, nor to peer at him like a scientist. Instead, he takes a ship of his brandy again and feigns attention to his book once more. Peripheral vision is enough to observe Ash through.

The meal was made anticipating a resistant appetite. Even if he isn't of a mind to avail himself to the sweeter dressing, the more earthy dressing, or the slightly spicy one, for a good variety, no two bites are exactly the same, and yet there is a coordinated, fresh, vegetal theme through it all. It's meant to make him take a third bite to determine what had been so different from the first and second, and to end up losing himself in the curiosity of texture and taste, before he can think of how much he's eating or why some part of him doesn't feel he should eat.]

[ He's only two bites in when he holds the tray out for Blanca's portion assuming this is meant to be shared between them. ]

[It is. If his aggressive presence isn't a distraction, then he'll set down his book and his drink to take up a roll himself.]

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