[When he gets back, Chrissy's head is tipped back enough that she can stare up at the steam that's filling the room. She's looking at it with fascination, something that once seemed so unordinary is now able to be seen in a new light. Everything in the world is a wonder, and now that she's died and come back she feels like she can truly appreciate all of it. But with as taken by the steam as she is, there's a pang of fear.
Did she come back the right way? Is she normal? She can't remember ever watching steam fill up a bathroom like this before.
Thankfully, he tears her away from her focused state, and she slowly turns toward him. His shirt is off, and she promptly moves to remove hers. Following his lead makes this easier, makes her understand what she should do. It's not like she doesn't completely remember the steps necessary to take a shower. It's more like her brain hasn't fully kicked into gear with everything just yet.]
I want you to.
[She murmurs in response to his question, slowly peeling away her blood soaked and dirty layers. Once again, she reminded that her cheerleading uniform that she died in can't be what she was buried in. And again, she wonders what happened to her body.
Chrissy stands there naked, head dipped downward to look at her stomach. It's just as flat as ever, nearly concave when she breathes in. And as her palms press against her stomach, she feels the familiar flutter of her muscles and the way she can feel her stomach expand to press firm against her hands tells her this is definitely her body. Somehow, whatever he's done, she's...herself. She just wishes that she felt like it completely.
He has to take her by the hand and lead her into the shower once he's undressed, and as he positions her beneath the stream of water she just stands there and lets it fall over her. He stands behind her, and she shuffles until she turns to face him. They're probably supposed to use soap or something here, but this isn't her shower and she doesn't even know what he has.
It hits her all at once, a sense of sheer elation combined with so many overwhelming emotions. Fear, uncertainty, and anxiety threaten to win out over her happiness and relief. There's no more dark void, no more emptiness. She exists again. And because of that, she cries. She stands there beneath the perfectly lovely hot water that's pouring over her, and she sobs.
When he pulls her in close, her arms wrap around him, not quite hugging as much as clinging to him like he's her anchor.]
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Did she come back the right way? Is she normal? She can't remember ever watching steam fill up a bathroom like this before.
Thankfully, he tears her away from her focused state, and she slowly turns toward him. His shirt is off, and she promptly moves to remove hers. Following his lead makes this easier, makes her understand what she should do. It's not like she doesn't completely remember the steps necessary to take a shower. It's more like her brain hasn't fully kicked into gear with everything just yet.]
I want you to.
[She murmurs in response to his question, slowly peeling away her blood soaked and dirty layers. Once again, she reminded that her cheerleading uniform that she died in can't be what she was buried in. And again, she wonders what happened to her body.
Chrissy stands there naked, head dipped downward to look at her stomach. It's just as flat as ever, nearly concave when she breathes in. And as her palms press against her stomach, she feels the familiar flutter of her muscles and the way she can feel her stomach expand to press firm against her hands tells her this is definitely her body. Somehow, whatever he's done, she's...herself. She just wishes that she felt like it completely.
He has to take her by the hand and lead her into the shower once he's undressed, and as he positions her beneath the stream of water she just stands there and lets it fall over her. He stands behind her, and she shuffles until she turns to face him. They're probably supposed to use soap or something here, but this isn't her shower and she doesn't even know what he has.
It hits her all at once, a sense of sheer elation combined with so many overwhelming emotions. Fear, uncertainty, and anxiety threaten to win out over her happiness and relief. There's no more dark void, no more emptiness. She exists again. And because of that, she cries. She stands there beneath the perfectly lovely hot water that's pouring over her, and she sobs.
When he pulls her in close, her arms wrap around him, not quite hugging as much as clinging to him like he's her anchor.]