Why Am I Not Getting Any Better Yet? → Tiffany Lestrange

[Brent Yaxley]

Brent was getting frustrated, angry, and generally touchy at everything. His ribs were still killing and the skin surrounding them still looked red raw. Even moving the slightest bit caused agony. Though, of course, he didn't want to deem himself useless and he did what he could to ensure he was still there for the dark lords beckon calling. Even if that meant you could hear his ribs crunch as he moved. Though, he'd managed to subside the pain with some super strong painkilling potion. Though that wasn't going to keep working for much longer. It was sort of imperative that he built some kind of bridge with someone who'd be able to help him. 

Sitting in the library of Lestrange manor, he flicked through a thick book on olden day healers spells, though the language was questionable and he didn't understand much of it (it was that ancient). He was kind of giving up on the idea of getting better. Nothing seemed to help, nobody he knew had enough training in medicine to help him and if they did he'd burnt the bridge between them so badly that he couldn't get help from them. 

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ooc. Free for christmas, so I should technically be around a bit more. ;D

[Tiffany Lestrange]

Predaytor slid down from the nearest shelf, latching onto a reading lantern & making his way over to Brent. Both of Tiffany's pets had grown fond of him, now, not just the mutt. The snake had grown to trust Brent almost as much as it trusted Tiffany - and the way it was in tune with it's master's emotions, it seemed to be growing in tune with Brent's as well. Not as friendly or snuggly as the furry beast usually was, Predaytor kept his distance a little, looking warily at Brent as he raised his head.

"I can't find Predaytor, have you seen h-" Tiffany went quiet & stopped walking all at once, casting a shadow from the doorway. "Oh. I thought you were Rowle, have you seen- Ah.." she stepped closer to the desk & reached for the snake, which reared up & hissed threateningly at her, hood flaring. Tiffany looked taken aback, too shocked to be offended. He had never threatened to attack her before. Seeming to realize his mistake, the snake immediately calmed down & wrapped himself apologetically around Tiffany's arm, but it was obvious, his first thought there had been to protect Brent when he thought the wizard was being attacked.

"Are you okay, you don't look any better." Tiffany frowned, reaching her free arm to turn the light closer to her fiance.

[Brent Yaxley]

"In here somewhere." Brent responded with a somewhat breathless tone. That's what sitting for too long did to him at the moment, the pressure on his ribs making his breathing shallow. Not looking up from the book, he sighed heavily as he flicked at the page, looking for some useful word to jump out of the page at him. Something, anything, that he could use.

"I'm fine." He added, simply as he turned his body a little, the colour had drained from him again, his skin a pale white colour, almost ghostlike. "You should go to bed, it's getting late." He added, not really in the mood to be pestered on his declining health.

[Tiffany Lestrange]

"Ophelia looks better than you. I look better than you" she licked two fingers, reaching over & putting out the flame, sending them into darkness, her eyes adjusting after a moment to the moonlight through the tall arched window instead. "You're getting no better down here. You might even go blind trying to read with this. Come to bed." she dipped her head, trying to look at him better. If trying to take care of Brent was the only thing to distract her from worrying about Esma, then so be it.

Predaytor coiled down her arm & dropped heavily to the floor, slithering into the shadows and out of sight, leaving a smooth trail in the dust that he cut through across the floor. Tiffany ducked down & wiped one finger along the mottled wood & lifted it to look in the moonlight. "It's incredibly dusty in here. You shouldn't be in here regardless."

[Brent Yaxley]

"Point being?" Brent questioned, barely bothering to look at her as he flicked another page. As the light went out head raised properly to look up at her, his eyes focusing on her shadowed figure in the dark room. "I'm fine." He answered in monotone, his hand moving to close the book anyway. He wasn't well, he knew that and to be honest, he knew he needed the rest.

"Why not? It's a bit of dust, it's not going to kill me." He answered, dragging himself to his feet, his hand holding the chair for support as though he'd taken sixty years off of his life. Gaining his balance, Brent ran a hand through his hair before walking towards the door. "I'm alright, really. You need to stop pestering or I'm going to get a migraine"

[Tiffany Lestrange]

"If I stopped pestering you, you'd die of exhaustion." she quipped back, falling into step with him & reaching up, tugging the back of his shirt softly to straighten where it had been wrinkled from him sitting so long, pausing to brush her hand almost comfortingly over his spine, then pulling away as if expecting to be burned. 

[Brent Yaxley]

"You're being dramatic again." He retorted in monotone before sighing as he walked, his hand moving to touch his chest, pressing against his ribs for a moment before dropping his hand to his side. "Besides, I'm not even tired." He added as he walked, ignoring the fact she'd even touched him.

[Tiffany Lestrange]

"Like I honestly care if you're tired, you should be resting anyway. Physically. You're not well & you know it perfectly." her tone was tight, sharp - like trying to say it was a struggle to keep her composure. He was like a beacon of strength to her, if nothing else. Abusive or not, he always got better. He always bounced back & was always able to assert himself, but not now. As if she needed one more thing going weird in her life right then. Brent not being himself was the final straw & it was clear to everyone around Tiffany that she was nearing her breaking point. She needed him to be okay for herself, for a sense of normalcy.

"Trixie will get you food & we can redress your ribs. You'll feel better if you just lay down." her last words were more of a demand than a promise.