![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pickheartwhetstoneRox didn't go home from the hospital. Every time she had to go home from the hospital while Rinka was still there, Rox hated it. She hated the empty house. Hated that the home she'd shared with her daughters was a shell. If she had to be there, she spent all of her time in the yard, beating the living tar out of the punching bag and practice dummy until she gave herself bruises. She just couldn't stay in the house. One daughter was in the hospital recovering from almost being killed, and the other daughter was with her lover, seeking comfort in his arms, something she didn't begrudge her baby girl.
After all, she wanted the arms of her lover, but he had kept busy. And away.
She knew why. The same reason she had avoided him a little at the beginning.
Guilt.
It ate at both of them. Gnawed on their souls, on their hearts, made them hesitate when around each other. Rinka had asked her when had been the last time she'd slept, and Rox hadn't had a straight answer. Look, nightmares were a thing, she'd said. And Rinka clarified.
No. Slept. With her fiancé.
Rox didn't have an answer for that at all, but she hadn't lingered to get a lecture from her daughter. Rinka wouldn't tell her anything she didn't already know, but had put off. So she didn't go home from the hospital.
She went to the Lower City. She went to the studio apartment she had never actually visited, but that she had the key to. She didn't expect him to be there, so she let herself in, and took in the small space that oozed the essence of the love of her life. She smiled to herself, put down her bag, and began to clean up. She tidied everything, made a simple meal in his small kitchen for him and herself for later, then crawled into his bed to just soak up the scent of him.
His bed hadn't seen him in ages until recently. His nights were usually spent in her bed. But lately they've slept alone, if they slept at all. Rox had more often than not fallen asleep in the hospital sitting up, or in her car, or on her couch if she made it home at all.
But being surrounded in his scent unwound something in her. She cried silently into his pillow and fell asleep waiting for him to come back.
After all, she wanted the arms of her lover, but he had kept busy. And away.
She knew why. The same reason she had avoided him a little at the beginning.
Guilt.
It ate at both of them. Gnawed on their souls, on their hearts, made them hesitate when around each other. Rinka had asked her when had been the last time she'd slept, and Rox hadn't had a straight answer. Look, nightmares were a thing, she'd said. And Rinka clarified.
No. Slept. With her fiancé.
Rox didn't have an answer for that at all, but she hadn't lingered to get a lecture from her daughter. Rinka wouldn't tell her anything she didn't already know, but had put off. So she didn't go home from the hospital.
She went to the Lower City. She went to the studio apartment she had never actually visited, but that she had the key to. She didn't expect him to be there, so she let herself in, and took in the small space that oozed the essence of the love of her life. She smiled to herself, put down her bag, and began to clean up. She tidied everything, made a simple meal in his small kitchen for him and herself for later, then crawled into his bed to just soak up the scent of him.
His bed hadn't seen him in ages until recently. His nights were usually spent in her bed. But lately they've slept alone, if they slept at all. Rox had more often than not fallen asleep in the hospital sitting up, or in her car, or on her couch if she made it home at all.
But being surrounded in his scent unwound something in her. She cried silently into his pillow and fell asleep waiting for him to come back.