**
"I burn burn like a wicker cabinet...
...I hear words and clips and phrases"
from Eve 6's "Inside Out"
**
My body trembled against the cold bathroom tiles. Lucky's arms cradled my upper body to his chest. He whispered nonsense against my hair.
Gradually the sobs that were torn from my aching body lessened. Tears still rained from my closed eyes. I fought to stifle them but it didn't seem to be working at all.
And then I threw up.
One minute I was lying in Lucky's arms, the next I was convulsing with the urge to empty my stomach's contents. I lunged for the toilet with a sudden burst of energy and hung myself over the toilet bowl.
When my retching had reduced to dry heaves, I felt a gentle hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles. I looked over my right shoulder into Lucky's sympathetic face. I couldn't read his eyes, for once. What was he thinking of me?
By now, my brain was losing control of my body. Fatigue was now also weighing down my muscles.
"Elizabeth?" Lucky's voice intruded in my brain. I was past anything other than nodding. "I know that you don't want to trust ANY male right now, but I'm asking you to trust *me*. Please?"
My thoughts ricocheted. What in the world did he mean? Trust him with what?
"Of course I trust you."
I felt him release a sigh of relief.
"Good. I'm going to give you a bath and put you to bed." I began to protest, but he silenced me with only one word: my name.
I swallowed through a closed throat.
**
Lucky tucked the heavy blanket around my shoulders. I trembled in the coolness of the sheets in the unfamiliar bed. Lucky's scent surrounded me. His very essence seemed to permeate this room; it was, after all, *his* room. Why shouldn't it smell like Lucky?
His weight pushed down the edge of the mattress. He was propped on one knee, leaning over me. His eyes were shuttered. He seemed closed off. Lucky brushed my damp hair off of my forehead with his fingertips. I closed my eyes and could still feel the steam in the bathroom. Lucky's hands and a worn washcloth had been infinitely gentle with me, as I had sat wearily on the closed toilet seat.
A sponge bath. Lucky Spencer had given me a sponge bath. He had left me in the bathroom with an oversized towel and came back when I was undressed and wrapped in said towel. He'd somehow found some scented soap and the softest washcloth in the house, and had proceeded to wash all of the dirt and blood off of all of the places in plain sight. I had been fairly fidgeting with discomfort, but Lucky eased my fears with his comforting voice and actions.
Now I was safely tucked into Lucky's actual bed, wearing one of his tee-shirts and a pair of sweatpants he'd dug up from somewhere.
My brain was telling me that I was clean, but my skin was fairly itching, it felt so dirty. I ached to hop in a shower and scrub myself til my skin was raw. I hardly had the energy to stay awake anymore, though, so a shower would have to wait.
I opened my eyes in time to see Lucky backing away from the bed. He flicked the light switch on his way out the door. Then, almost as if he'd had an afterthought, he turned back to the darkened room. I could see his silhouette clearly.
"Elizabeth, I'm here if you need me."
And that was all.
End chapter 4