That same afternoon, Heero decided once and for all to do something about the boy’s hair. He had never managed to clean it properly in over a week, and Wufei’s snarled insult about the midden still rankled. Heero carefully lifted the boy from the bed and placed him instead in the chair; the boy neither assisted nor resisted the movement. The only action he made on his own was his ever-watchful eyes following the soldier until he vanished from sight; he still sat in the exact same place when Heero returned, with a basin of water in his hands.
His eyes widened when he saw what Heero held; when the soldier set the basin down on the desk beside him, he began to tremble. His hands clenched and unclenched on the fabric in his lap, every muscle taut, but he didn’t resist as Heero positioned his body until he was leaning over the washbowl; he closed his eyes.
Heero paused as he took in the frightened tension in the boy’s posture; his breath came in ragged gasps, on the edge of hyperventilation, and he shook like an aspen leaf. Still, he didn’t try to resist, or react, so after a moment Heero leaned over the boy’s back and gathered up the tangled mass of hair. Not all of it would fit in the small basin at one time; starting at the bottom, Heero dipped a handful of hair into the water and scrubbed at the encrusted dirt with his hands. When the tangled strands loosened into a soft cloud in the water, Heero pulled it dripping from the water and started on another section.
The violet eyes flew open with shock as Heero poured some of the warm water over the top of the boy’s head, running one hand through his hair to dislodge the last of the dirt. The violent trembling of his body eased as his gaze searched Heero’s face for... something. After a few more repetitions, Heero was finally satisfied that nothing more could be done at the moment, and set the tub of darkened water aside. He pushed back his seat, and moved over to the cabinet that held his few belongings. Something felt off, and it took a moment for Heero to identify exactly what had changed; he glanced back at the boy seated before the desk. He wasn’t watching the soldier any more; his unfocused gaze stared into the empty space in front of him instead. Heero wasn’t sure whether or not he was glad to be relieved of the constant scrutiny, and shrugged off a feeling of uneasiness as he rummaged through the bottom of the chest, finally coming up with a sparse-toothed comb.
Re: Spoil of War, prologue
Date: 2006-02-27 11:20 pm (UTC)That same afternoon, Heero decided once and for all to do something about the boy’s hair. He had never managed to clean it properly in over a week, and Wufei’s snarled insult about the midden still rankled. Heero carefully lifted the boy from the bed and placed him instead in the chair; the boy neither assisted nor resisted the movement. The only action he made on his own was his ever-watchful eyes following the soldier until he vanished from sight; he still sat in the exact same place when Heero returned, with a basin of water in his hands.
His eyes widened when he saw what Heero held; when the soldier set the basin down on the desk beside him, he began to tremble. His hands clenched and unclenched on the fabric in his lap, every muscle taut, but he didn’t resist as Heero positioned his body until he was leaning over the washbowl; he closed his eyes.
Heero paused as he took in the frightened tension in the boy’s posture; his breath came in ragged gasps, on the edge of hyperventilation, and he shook like an aspen leaf. Still, he didn’t try to resist, or react, so after a moment Heero leaned over the boy’s back and gathered up the tangled mass of hair. Not all of it would fit in the small basin at one time; starting at the bottom, Heero dipped a handful of hair into the water and scrubbed at the encrusted dirt with his hands. When the tangled strands loosened into a soft cloud in the water, Heero pulled it dripping from the water and started on another section.
The violet eyes flew open with shock as Heero poured some of the warm water over the top of the boy’s head, running one hand through his hair to dislodge the last of the dirt. The violent trembling of his body eased as his gaze searched Heero’s face for... something. After a few more repetitions, Heero was finally satisfied that nothing more could be done at the moment, and set the tub of darkened water aside. He pushed back his seat, and moved over to the cabinet that held his few belongings. Something felt off, and it took a moment for Heero to identify exactly what had changed; he glanced back at the boy seated before the desk. He wasn’t watching the soldier any more; his unfocused gaze stared into the empty space in front of him instead. Heero wasn’t sure whether or not he was glad to be relieved of the constant scrutiny, and shrugged off a feeling of uneasiness as he rummaged through the bottom of the chest, finally coming up with a sparse-toothed comb.