Post by Felicia Soler on Feb 22, 2014 20:41:34 GMT -5
I know I'm fickle, there's many to tickle
A potion, for every creation
If you'll be my friend, grace till the end
But promise to serve my call
A potion, for every creation
If you'll be my friend, grace till the end
But promise to serve my call
With all that had happened over the past several months, for once in her life, she was actually exhausted. She'd been studying for (and had passed) her medical boards, was working on completing her residency at the local hospital in their heart surgery ward, had been raising her two twins with Helena, and somehow managed to find time for herself somewhere in there.
Now that the twins were tucked away in bed and fast asleep, she walked into the master bathroom and plugged the drain in the large bathtub, then turned on the tap and adjusted the temperature until it was just hot enough not to scald her skin. From under the sink, she produced a bag of lavender-scented epsom salts and dumped a handful under the running water. There were a few candles scattered about the bathroom, and she lit them all one by one, then set them up around the bath, casting a flickering glow in the room.
She'd promised Helena that she was going to wait for her before she got into the tub, but she'd lied. As soon as she was out of her clothes, she cautiously stepped into the warm bathwater and sank down into it, feeling the magnesium and other minerals from the salt being rapidly soaked in through her skin and absorbed into her sore muscles.
“I'm in the bathroom,” she called out to Helena whom she could hear rummaging around in their bedroom for something. Probably a strap-on dildo or some other kind of waterproof toy they could amuse themselves with in the tub. Lately, her libido had taken quite a beating between her study schedule, the twins, and adjusting her schedule to deal with the demands of the medical profession. “I swear, in my next lifetime, I'm just gonna do something really mindless and simple, like be a receptionist or something. I'm already tired of all this medical bullshit.”
Yes, she knew that she was doing good in the world, and her services had definitely come in handy during the riots. Amalia had gotten caught in the crossfire and had ended up on her operating table after having been shot in the chest on a routine run to the supermarket. Luckily for her, Devon had had the soundness of mind (and the skills of a track runner) to run her down to the hospital which was roughly a mile from the store. It had taken the better part of four hours to complete the operation since her breastbone had been almost completely obliterated, and the bone shards which had resulted from impact with the bullet had punctured one of her lungs and torn through her heart tissue. How she'd managed to hang on even for the minutes it had taken for Devon to run her to the hospital, the gods only knew. For all intents and purposes, she should have been dead.
Now, however, she was mostly recovered. While she could have used her ability to heal her injured granddaughter, sometimes surgery was just a better option. Given how tired she'd been for the past few weeks, she doubted she would have had the energy necessary to handle the mortal wounds. But what she lacked in energy, she more than made up for in surgical expertise.
Felicia sighed and sank under the water, wetting her hair. When she surfaced, her eyes remained shut, and her arms hung limply at her sides. She could hear Helena's footsteps as she finished whatever it was that she was doing and made her way into the bathroom. “I still don't know what I did to deserve you.” In spite of all her infidelities, Helena had remained steadfast by her side. Their relationship had certainly had its fair share of ups and downs, but what relationship didn't? Okay, granted their relationship was a little stranger than most; that was probably what helped keep them together. The fact that they could each accept the other in spite of their dysfunctions proved their devotion. Helena would always be the quiet, reserved half of their odd couple, while she was content to remain as loud and bawdy as ever.
“Motherhood really suits you, and you've done a fantastic job so far. I'm proud to be able to call you my wife.” Felicia paused. That was enough tender sweetness for the night. “Now get the fuck in the tub and give me a back massage, goddammit.”
Now that the twins were tucked away in bed and fast asleep, she walked into the master bathroom and plugged the drain in the large bathtub, then turned on the tap and adjusted the temperature until it was just hot enough not to scald her skin. From under the sink, she produced a bag of lavender-scented epsom salts and dumped a handful under the running water. There were a few candles scattered about the bathroom, and she lit them all one by one, then set them up around the bath, casting a flickering glow in the room.
She'd promised Helena that she was going to wait for her before she got into the tub, but she'd lied. As soon as she was out of her clothes, she cautiously stepped into the warm bathwater and sank down into it, feeling the magnesium and other minerals from the salt being rapidly soaked in through her skin and absorbed into her sore muscles.
“I'm in the bathroom,” she called out to Helena whom she could hear rummaging around in their bedroom for something. Probably a strap-on dildo or some other kind of waterproof toy they could amuse themselves with in the tub. Lately, her libido had taken quite a beating between her study schedule, the twins, and adjusting her schedule to deal with the demands of the medical profession. “I swear, in my next lifetime, I'm just gonna do something really mindless and simple, like be a receptionist or something. I'm already tired of all this medical bullshit.”
Yes, she knew that she was doing good in the world, and her services had definitely come in handy during the riots. Amalia had gotten caught in the crossfire and had ended up on her operating table after having been shot in the chest on a routine run to the supermarket. Luckily for her, Devon had had the soundness of mind (and the skills of a track runner) to run her down to the hospital which was roughly a mile from the store. It had taken the better part of four hours to complete the operation since her breastbone had been almost completely obliterated, and the bone shards which had resulted from impact with the bullet had punctured one of her lungs and torn through her heart tissue. How she'd managed to hang on even for the minutes it had taken for Devon to run her to the hospital, the gods only knew. For all intents and purposes, she should have been dead.
Now, however, she was mostly recovered. While she could have used her ability to heal her injured granddaughter, sometimes surgery was just a better option. Given how tired she'd been for the past few weeks, she doubted she would have had the energy necessary to handle the mortal wounds. But what she lacked in energy, she more than made up for in surgical expertise.
Felicia sighed and sank under the water, wetting her hair. When she surfaced, her eyes remained shut, and her arms hung limply at her sides. She could hear Helena's footsteps as she finished whatever it was that she was doing and made her way into the bathroom. “I still don't know what I did to deserve you.” In spite of all her infidelities, Helena had remained steadfast by her side. Their relationship had certainly had its fair share of ups and downs, but what relationship didn't? Okay, granted their relationship was a little stranger than most; that was probably what helped keep them together. The fact that they could each accept the other in spite of their dysfunctions proved their devotion. Helena would always be the quiet, reserved half of their odd couple, while she was content to remain as loud and bawdy as ever.
“Motherhood really suits you, and you've done a fantastic job so far. I'm proud to be able to call you my wife.” Felicia paused. That was enough tender sweetness for the night. “Now get the fuck in the tub and give me a back massage, goddammit.”
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ф ф Word count: 838
ф ф Mood: . . .
ф ф Outfit: Nothing.
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Muse, Faun Fables
ф ф Illustrations: None.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: None.
ф ф Word count: 838
ф ф Mood: . . .
ф ф Outfit: Nothing.
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Muse, Faun Fables
ф ф Illustrations: None.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: None.