#i actually wrote like half of this the night u sent it but couldn't figure out how to end it

[byanyan]

"Hold still," She murmured, digging her nails through their shampoo-ladened hair. Their response is lost in the drip-drip-drip of water from drenched clothes and the showerhead. Lena reminded silent otherwise, gently scrubbing the ruin and rot of the day from their hair until the water ran clear.

ㅤit was an unexpectedly vulnerable position, to be seated on the floor of the bathtub and have someone else's fingers in their hair, lathering the shampoo and loosening all the grime and dirt from within. even though they were mostly dressed, soaked clothes clinging awkwardly to their frame, they still found that they felt almost... exposed. maybe it had something to do with the unfamiliarity of having someone take care of them that they still hadn't gotten used to, or perhaps something about the fact that they should be perfectly capable of showering on their own, even in this state... whatever the case, there was an air of uncertainty about them, a readiness to react which wouldn't allow them to relax under the ministrations of another.

it was lena, of course. they knew it was her; that was the only reason they'd allowed her to lead them to the bathroom, the only reason they'd climbed into the bath at her urging, the only reason they hadn't already clambered back out and shoved her aside. but it was still... difficult to accept. putting something that they usually handled on their own into the hands of others, allowing someone else to touch them while they were not in a great state of mind...

it was trust. trust was what allowed them to be in this position tonight, but it was also the reason they found themself so aggressively close to standing and pushing her away. they trusted lena, they did, but putting that much trust into someone else's hands was still... a lot. no matter how much they'd come to believe in that person.

lips parted, but any words they spoke were lost amongst the sounds of the pouring water from the showerhead and that which dripped from their hair, clothes, and skin. if they spoke anything intelligible, neither them nor lena were aware of it. with the sounds passed, whatever they might have been, byan shut their mouth and obliged to the directions given to them, falling still where they hadn't even realized they'd been fidgeting and shifting. after a few more moments of quiet deliberation, they made the (somewhat hesitant) decision to allow themself to lean in to the comfort of someone scrubbing through their hair, at least a little; to release more of that trust to her and close their eyes over, allowing her to work while they remained half dazed, not fully sober yet and honestly glad for that fact.

if they let themself focus on the sensation of it and not anything else — not the context, not any of the mess inside their head, not the way their soggy clothes made them feel smaller than usual, none of it — it was actually... kind of nice. there was something inherently pleasant about tipping their head back into the scrub of someone's fingers against their skull that, outside of a hairdresser and away from anyone who might take advantage of them being in such a vulnerable position, was actually weirdly soothing.

ㅤ(they can recall a similar feeling from when they were much younger, those moments where someone did take direct care of them, how it made them feel so safe and secure and warm. in a bubble, the memories are cozy. in hindsight, they're nothing short of miserable. but there's something almost healing about it here, like a desperate craving being satiated...)

at some point, the water was shut off, their hair clean. they'd lost track of how long it had been, bleary eyes blinking open once more just in time to see lena approaching again, this time with a towel. again, their mouth opened, but this time they closed it before any protest could slip out. if she'd already washed their hair, was there really anything to lose in allowing her to dry it, too? at least enough that it wasn't some mop dripping water everywhere they went? that wasn't much, right?

ㅤㅤ" did you... "ㅤthe words slipped out without them even realizing they'd spoken, too lost in the vigorous scrub of lena's hands returning to their head, the noise of the cloth rubbing against their ears. for a moment, they lost their train of thought in it all as well, only for the grumbling of their stomach to remind them of where they'd been going.ㅤ" ...did you... already have dinner? "

having already accepted help tonight, help that hadn't been used against them or to gain anything from them... how much harm was there in asking for just a little more?