Loss of Translation
folder
+S to Z › Tsubasa
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
5,050
Reviews:
37
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S to Z › Tsubasa
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
5,050
Reviews:
37
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own or make any money off of the Tsubasa fandom. The characters and all plot lines associated to the original story belong to CLAMP.
Haze and Pain
A/N : Thanks to sud1l0v3 for reviewing.
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He hurt. In fact, he was fairly certain he had never hurt this much in his entire life. He tentatively opened an eye, but the brightness forced it shut again. His body felt like stone and his head was filled with cotton. Painful, throbbing cotton. Through the fog he thought he heard someone speaking. It was faint and disjointed. He tried to understand what the voice was saying but the strain made his head hurt more. Squinting his eyes shut against the pain, he rolled his head away from the sound. Someone put a hand on his head, and the voice spoke again, softer this time. He tried to roll away again, but his body wasn’t cooperating. The hand on his head left briefly, then returned accompanied by a cup at his lips. He sipped the proffered liquid slowly. As he drank, the throbbing in his head began to lessen, his senses becoming clearer.
Once his headache had dulled to a manageable level, he pulled his mouth away from the cup and risked opening his eye again. While the light no longer hurt, his vision remained blurry. A dark figure was crouched next to him holding a glass. The figure spoke, but the words were garbled and meaningless. He blinked. Partly to clear his vision, which it didn't, and partly in confusion. The figure sighed heavily and pointed to the cup in his hand, raising an eyebrow in question. His head was still aching and his vision wasn’t quite clear, so he gave a tiny nod and the cup was placed against his lips again.
After he drained the cup, he laid his head back closing his eyes to sleep. Before being allowed drift off, the hand was on the back of his head lifting him up slightly. He felt a spoon being pressed against his lips. Hesitantly, he opened them. The soup was warm and curled around his empty stomach comfortingly. He hungrily accepted spoonful after spoonful of the delicious liquid; it’s warmth spreading from his abdomen to his extremities, bringing the feeling and life back. As the numbness in his legs retreated, painful cramping took it’s place. He started seizing in pain. The cup was instantly back at his lips forcing him to drink. The seizing stopped, but the pain remained. The person beside him brushed the hair out of his face and spoke softly, calming him. He winced and gestured towards his legs, indicating the origin of the pain.
The figure lifted the blanket covering him and gently moved the folds of his robe out of the way. Then there were hands on his legs, soothing and massaging the pain away. His entire body relaxed as the large, warm hands worked some kind of magic on his aching limbs. As the pain receded he found himself losing the battle against the inviting blackness of sleep. After less than a second of consideration, he conceded and dosed off.
TBC
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He hurt. In fact, he was fairly certain he had never hurt this much in his entire life. He tentatively opened an eye, but the brightness forced it shut again. His body felt like stone and his head was filled with cotton. Painful, throbbing cotton. Through the fog he thought he heard someone speaking. It was faint and disjointed. He tried to understand what the voice was saying but the strain made his head hurt more. Squinting his eyes shut against the pain, he rolled his head away from the sound. Someone put a hand on his head, and the voice spoke again, softer this time. He tried to roll away again, but his body wasn’t cooperating. The hand on his head left briefly, then returned accompanied by a cup at his lips. He sipped the proffered liquid slowly. As he drank, the throbbing in his head began to lessen, his senses becoming clearer.
Once his headache had dulled to a manageable level, he pulled his mouth away from the cup and risked opening his eye again. While the light no longer hurt, his vision remained blurry. A dark figure was crouched next to him holding a glass. The figure spoke, but the words were garbled and meaningless. He blinked. Partly to clear his vision, which it didn't, and partly in confusion. The figure sighed heavily and pointed to the cup in his hand, raising an eyebrow in question. His head was still aching and his vision wasn’t quite clear, so he gave a tiny nod and the cup was placed against his lips again.
After he drained the cup, he laid his head back closing his eyes to sleep. Before being allowed drift off, the hand was on the back of his head lifting him up slightly. He felt a spoon being pressed against his lips. Hesitantly, he opened them. The soup was warm and curled around his empty stomach comfortingly. He hungrily accepted spoonful after spoonful of the delicious liquid; it’s warmth spreading from his abdomen to his extremities, bringing the feeling and life back. As the numbness in his legs retreated, painful cramping took it’s place. He started seizing in pain. The cup was instantly back at his lips forcing him to drink. The seizing stopped, but the pain remained. The person beside him brushed the hair out of his face and spoke softly, calming him. He winced and gestured towards his legs, indicating the origin of the pain.
The figure lifted the blanket covering him and gently moved the folds of his robe out of the way. Then there were hands on his legs, soothing and massaging the pain away. His entire body relaxed as the large, warm hands worked some kind of magic on his aching limbs. As the pain receded he found himself losing the battle against the inviting blackness of sleep. After less than a second of consideration, he conceded and dosed off.
TBC