Francis hadn't noticed her. The reason was now obvious why he wasn't playing well. His hands were busted up, and he seemed frustrated.
Poppy stood for a moment, fighting the urge to go over to him, to laugh with him, to act like the night before had never happened. Instead, she inhaled deeply before plunging into the aisles. She ran her fingers over the spines of the books before she pulled out the one that seemed to work for her needs. She opened it, gazed at the table of contents, and then closed it gently. Yes, this would do nicely. She headed to the computers that lined the walls so that she could check out the book. Cracking open the book slightly, she read the first page, her eyes scanning the page rapidly. With her lab coat and goggles, she looked exactly as she had the first day that she and Francis had first spoken. She squinted at the page as she waited in line, trying to make out a word that had been rubbed off the page.
He stood up, slamming the case shut. He turned around, only then noticing that Poppy was there. He froze slightly, still and silent.
She knew that his eyes were on her, and she slowly looked up from her book and met his gaze, dark circles surround her eyes from a lack of sleep. Her complexion was paler than usual, and she didn't say anything to him. Just looked at him and waited for something. Anything.
He faltered, but regained his posture quickly. His voice was quiet. "I'm.. I'm sorry for what happened."
Her head cocked slightly, and she rubbed the book's spine with the side of her thumb. "I know," she said eventually, her voice soft. "Come on, let's go talk."
She waved the book in front of the computer, and the machine beeped, signaling that the book's use was recorded. "Yeah, I'm sure," she said, hugging it to her chest. "At the very least, we can fix up your fingers a little better."
She didn't say anything more. She lightly put her hand on his forearm and pulled him out of the library to head back to her room. Her body language showed that she was still uncomfortable, but her eyes weren't angry, just thoughtful. Confused and concerned, maybe. A little sad. But not angry. "Unfortunately," she said quietly as they turned a corner, "my bag is in my room, so we'll have to go there."
He nodded, a bit surprised by the pulling. He noticed her expression, but didn't say anything about it. "I appreciate the help. Really."
They got to Poppy's room, and she unlocked it with fumbling fingers. She pushed the door open and went inside, dropping the keys on the bedside table. The bed was still sheetless from the previous night, but the rest of the room was fairly tidy. The blinds were pushed back to reveal the blue sky above them, and Poppy paused to look at it before going over to the desk in the corner. She took her pack and went over to the sofa, opening up the bag carefully to look inside.
Francis stood near the door, running a thumb over his knuckles, which only made then sting more. The absent sheets made him feel a bit sad, but he didn't let it show.
(I think I might head off to bed after this one.) She glanced up at him as she pulled out a salve. "Could you come over here please?" she asked quietly, her voice feeling strangely formal in her throat.
(Oh jeez, me too. I'm trying hard to stay awake.) He walked over, keeping his eyes to the floor. He chose not to say anything yet, and just listened.
She opened the salve container, and the distinct, sharp scent of mint floated out. "This is for the aching," she said eventually. "I made it when I was younger for when I had incidents with tree climbing." She held her hand out for his, her expression slightly hesitant.
"Ah, so you weren't always that good at climbing trees," he mumbled, cracking a joke as he gave her hand.
She held his hand with both of hers, looking at it carefully, and tracing the knuckles with her finger as she considered it. "No, I wasn't," she responded, turning back to the salve. She put some on the tip of her finger and began to rub it into his hand, smoothing it over his fingers and around the joints. The salve was cool and relaxing, instantly easing the muscles in his hand and diminishing the ache substantially. "I need you to tell me what happened last night," she said eventually, keeping her eyes down on his hand. "The last thing I remember was sitting in the observatory, and then.." She sighed and shook her head dismissing the images that rolled into her head. "Anyway. What happened?"
