The room is small but orderly. All clean lines and white paint. Fitting for a clinic.
The evening sun drifted, through the sparse material of the curtains, illuminating the eye-catching tattoo of the cot's singular inhabitant.
But the tattoo wasn't what Nice was focused on, as she stood guard, watching over the young man who she had feared she had lost atop that blasted train. She took note of the steady rise and fall of his chest, the calm expression on his sleeping face and of the awful bandages, wrapped around the majority of his body.
As a bomb expert part of a (admitted small-time) gang, there wasn't much that put fear into her.
Bandages were another story. She could feel an uncomfortable lump of emotion rise in her chest but she refused to even consider crying. Almost instinctually, she leant forward, brushing an unruly lock of hair back in place. It made her feel somewhat better, being able to do something, no matter how small. It was better than feeling helpless like how she had when Jacuzzi had tumbled off the side of the train along with a blurry red silhouette.
Shaking the memory of it from her head, she straightened out the cotton sheet. The strange doctor certainly had a better medical set up than they were used too. She set her hands to smoothing out any stray crinkles in fabric, not that she was adverse to a little mess (quite the opposite in fact) she was a woman of action at heart and she liked the feeling of being productive. During her impromptu inspection, calloused but soft hands managed to brush against the crook of Jacuzzi's neck, making her to look up at his face. Up close (even with eye-sight like hers) she could make out little details.
His skin looked paler than normal, with a faint darkness under his still-shut eyes but overall his breathing was steady and his face looked almost angelic in the light. It was affection that pulled her closer but it was her worry that compelled her, to gently brush her lips against his.
A clatter of noise out in the hallway reminded her of her surroundings and she pulled back swiftly. The familiar voices of John and Fang, discussing some kind of stew, was reassuring, the train incident was truly over. Returned to her position of informal guard an unbidden thought came to her mind. It managed to echo the words that Jacuzzi had spoken, back when they were kids. This time they were meant for him.
'So as long as we're together, you're going to be just fine!'