C
Cammeh
Guest
Original poster
"Is she?" Sinead smiled a bit, glad for some normal news. But, stab wound? He must've been stabbed rescuing her. She fingered the healing knife slash above where it disappeared behind her eye patch and over her eye. "I'm getting there slowly..." she said with a sigh. She accepted his help to get sat up and didn't say anything about the whiskey breath. She even envied him for it. But the fact that he was sitting here talking to her coherently made it a non-issue.
"Tha concussion's gonnae linger fer about as long as I gotta wear tha sling, about a month're so. An' I'll need t' be careful wit' me eye. Use drops'n such, an' then exercise it once it's a bit more healed...but I'll nae lose it." She shook her head wryly, touching the bald patch where her own stitches had just come out yesterday. "An' me hair'll grow back eventually. Ugh, I hate it short. That'll take tha longest. I still cannae believe they did it while I was sleepin'. Ain't good t'shock a soul like tha'..." She didn't mention the panic attack that she'd suffered thinking about them touching her while she was in a drugged sleep. It had taken quite a while for Cicero to talk her down from that. "But I'm hopin' t'go home soon. I'm more steady on m'feet, an' once I don' need pain medication fer my ribs, they'll set me free from here..."
Sinead took a breath, sighing lightly as she finished listing off her injuries. She tried not to think about them. "S'been hard, but Cicero's been an absolute dear. He mus' be exhausted. I hope he gets himself a nap at home. He's been up almos' as much as I have through th'night. I, well, I've nae been sleepin' well. Nightmares an' shite like tha'..." Sinead took a careful breath, staring down at her lap and flicking the claws of her good hand awkwardly. "Cicero said...it might help f'we talk...if I ask ye..." Her eye flicked up at him and back down again. "What happened tha' night..."
"Tha concussion's gonnae linger fer about as long as I gotta wear tha sling, about a month're so. An' I'll need t' be careful wit' me eye. Use drops'n such, an' then exercise it once it's a bit more healed...but I'll nae lose it." She shook her head wryly, touching the bald patch where her own stitches had just come out yesterday. "An' me hair'll grow back eventually. Ugh, I hate it short. That'll take tha longest. I still cannae believe they did it while I was sleepin'. Ain't good t'shock a soul like tha'..." She didn't mention the panic attack that she'd suffered thinking about them touching her while she was in a drugged sleep. It had taken quite a while for Cicero to talk her down from that. "But I'm hopin' t'go home soon. I'm more steady on m'feet, an' once I don' need pain medication fer my ribs, they'll set me free from here..."
Sinead took a breath, sighing lightly as she finished listing off her injuries. She tried not to think about them. "S'been hard, but Cicero's been an absolute dear. He mus' be exhausted. I hope he gets himself a nap at home. He's been up almos' as much as I have through th'night. I, well, I've nae been sleepin' well. Nightmares an' shite like tha'..." Sinead took a careful breath, staring down at her lap and flicking the claws of her good hand awkwardly. "Cicero said...it might help f'we talk...if I ask ye..." Her eye flicked up at him and back down again. "What happened tha' night..."