Nisha releases her hold and nearly jumps back, narrowly avoiding getting hit with coffee herself. Silently, she curses herself for being careless, and for hurting him. There was a sink around here, right? Nisha takes hold of Demetri’s injured hand and drags him to the sink, where she turns on the cold water, murmuring quiet apologies as she puts his hand under the cool stream of water. Her voice is quiet, but immensely apologetic.
“Sorry…. I did not mean to…. I am sorry. I was careless.” Gentle fingers smooth and rub the water across and into his hand. She sighs, visibly upset as she faces completely away from him.
He almost starting hollering at her in an annoyed fit—almost, but he held his tongue and bit the inside of his cheek as the prickling feeling spreads across his hand. He nearly stumbles when she starts to drag him towards the sink without much warning, hopping a little to avoid the coffee that had spilled on the floor as they past it. The coldness of the water stung slightly before it’s soothing effects began. Demetri knew she didn’t mean to do what she did but couldn’t help another agitated grunt rumbling through him again, ” It’s alright…” he murmured.
Nisha huffs softly, embarrassed, and a touch offended. “I-I…I did not…demand anything. I simply…. I told you. I care. So I…want to know…. You do not have to say anything you do not want.” Another huff and she pouts, looking slightly put out. “If you would prefer I…demand an explanation…. Would you…give me one if I did? A real one, not this…the way you always…dodge anything serious.”
The attack on the Citadel…. Did he mean the Cerberus coup? Had he fought and been injured? She almost reaches out to the scar again, but misses her chance as he turns to tend to the coffee. Not wanting to think about something…that is an idea she understands. After all, she has her own scars she would rather not think about at times. She is almost ready to let the matter drop, but then…. Almost dyin’ an all. Her eyes go wide, and her hand quickly grabs for his arm, finger squeezing tightly. Her voice is pitched high with concern, and even a note of fear, though it is insistent. “What do you mean you…almost died? Demetri. What happened? Tell me.”
He tries to compensate for the woman grabbing his arm, the coffee pot in his hand swaying with him, ” H-hey! Nish—” is all that he could say before his other hand knocked over one of the mugs he already filled. Hot coffee splashes the counter and a few droplets fling onto his exposed skin, ” Goddamn it! ” he exclaimed as he lurched to the side to not knock Nisha over. An annoyed grunt rumbles through him as a hand wipes the hot coffee from his skin.
[Nisha is rolling her eyes and thinks Dee needs to behave himself for pete’s sake.]
Wouldn’t be’tha first time I stole’a girl from some poor soul…
She makes a soft sound of protest as her hair is mussed, a small whine of complaint, and gives him a pout. Then it vanishes as she nods her head. “I…would like that. Um…I will put the cat away, so…. She will not bother you, I hope.”
She waits expectantly for an explanation, even if it’s a lie. What she doesn’t expect is for Demetri to brush it off altogether, and she frowns. “Are you? Something like this….” Long fingers brush lightly along the puckered flesh once again. “At some point, you were not fine. If you…cannot tell me, then say so. But…do not say nothing at all. I…care about you, so…I would like to know. But if you would really rather not…I will not press.”
He takes her hand into his and moves it away from the large scar, squeezing it gently, ” Lookit you, bein’ all demandin’ ” he chuckles, ” It happened durin’ the attack on the Citadel. —Ain’t much else to tell. ” the faint beeping of the coffee pot caught his attention and he released her hand as he turned around, ” It ain’t that I can’t talk ‘bout it. It just…ain’t something I like to put at the front’a my mind, you know? ” he gathers two cups and starts pouring the coffee. ” Almost dyin’ an’ all… ” —and then there was his brother and Shae.
More than a hug. She wants, needs, to be held. By someone whose presence does not create…unnecessary feelings. She shakes her head against him and begins mumbling again. “N-no…um…. I live…by myself now. it…gets a little….” A lot…. “Um, I just….” As she searches for words, she fidgets and shakes her head, resulting in her forehead brushing against the end of the scar on his chest. Her body goes still, eyes widening behind dark lenses, then one hand moves toward the mark, and her fingertips very lightly brush along it, feeling out its shape. When she speaks, her voice is filled with concern. “Demetri…. What is…. How did you get this?”
” I understand ” he lifts a hand and ruffles the hair atop her head slightly, ” Maybe I could start comin’ta visit hm? When I ain’t busy. ” he makes a face, wondering if she still has that cat that makes him sneeze to high hell. When her forehead brushes against his scar he tenses and mouths an obscenity to himself as her hand reaches upwards. Son of a bitch. Well it was only a matter of time…
She doesn’t know he had a terminal illness. She doesn’t know what happened during the Cerberus attack—how he almost died right then and there. He was guessing she probably didn’t even know about Shae or his brother.
He looks down at the girl and frowns not able to even think of where to begin, ” I’m fine so…you don’t really gotta worry ‘bout it alright? ” —so he didn’t start the story at all.