Oliver Burton

Oliver had called the woman stubborn, in fact, she had the glorious honour of being the most stubborn person he had ever met. Of all the people he has known, briefly or otherwise she was by far the most stubborn creature of them all and she was human. Somehow, surprisingly enough to him, it even included his free-spirited sister, there would be no cage to confine her, no person, no one thing, he suspected Miya was the same way. It was the woman's subdued laughter met him, that noise drawing forth his nutmeg hued eyes to peer at her as he crossed that room, medical bag in tow as she mentions her mother. She looked so small within that blanket she had wrapped around like cherishing arms, like it practically swallowed her whole. It was perhaps that and the mention of her mother that had caused his eyes to thaw. A subject that perhaps, needled its way deeply within his heart, more than she would know. "Your mother is right, you should listen to her more. Mothers tend to know more than you realize." How simply put and yet how that man knew this. If only he knew this in his youth, he was so different then from the strong, near immovable man he was today, made up of perseverance, resourcefulness, and power. If only he had another chance to save them.

There was a distant look that seemed to ensnare the once defiant woman, how vulnerable her features seemed to look in that moment. A softness to her face that almost seemed kissed by sadness. Perhaps he was imagining things, but how astute he was at reading people. He hardly got where he was without it. She presses her hand to the wound on her head, wincing at the very touch of those tender wounds. The scent of blood wafting to his nostrils once more, she was like a wounded animal. That desire to keep her safe seemed to rile within him for some innate reasoning he could not fathom, his inner bear had already decided, his eyes narrowing showing that flash of concern.

There was no way the woman could stand in the shower on her own, she could barely stand without his help. He could practically imagine her own demise as she slipped and lost her footing in that shower. Surviving that night to only have a fallen within the shower, that blow to head finishing the job the vampire did not. He could hardly stomach that concern even as he warns her of the possibility of that awkwardness.

A slow blooming smile spread across his lips, accompanied by that rare genuine chuckle as she explains she could not stand the sight of her own blood. He wasn't laughing at her, not truly but she was truly unlike anyone he had ever met before. How impossible it was to see her cheeks grow a shade darker in that fierce blush as he could barely help that lingering smile, even as she protested at him to not laugh at her. "I am not laughing at you.. not really. " the curl of laughter still lapped at his words even despite repressing it.

That was when that threat suddenly blooms from her lips and he feigns surprise. "Is that a threat, Miya?" Another dark chuckle blooms from him then. It had been a very long time since any one dare threaten him. However, during the wake of her own embarrassment, he allows it to pass, just this once. "I wouldn't dream of it.." He offered softly as she shook his head softly, his words still laced with that amusement. He could hardly help but wonder what she was like entirely healed. However, that laughter seemed to be chased away momentarily by that concern for the woman, he could feel her trembling, feel just how weak she was as she clung near desperately to his arm. He secured his grip around her near instinctively, not allowing her to fall as they rose to move toward the washroom to get cleaned up, that waiting blanket left behind for now.

She seemed to take hold of that information her offered about treating his own wounds, while they shuffle slowly toward the bathroom. He easily batted away that comment that he was rich, his shoulders lifting into a shrug. "Habit, I suppose you can say. For a large portion of my life, my family didn't have access to medical care and we learned how to care for our wounds, or ailments....on our own." He wasn't sure she was ready to know the truth. She knew vampires existed but weres? How would she react? He needed her to settle, not more exasperated. "Look, how about we save your questions for after." They would get nowhere if he had to explain what he was, running in circle after circle. That bathroom seemed snug with the two of them in there, but it was clean at the very least, she seemed to take pride in her home, from what he saw.

It was then that he explained his idea and the moment she heard those words a fierce blush blossomed upon her cheeks, how he seemed to secretly enjoy easily pulling that reddened hue from her. How she stammers and he waits patiently for her answer. She felt her fingers digging deeper into his flesh as though that embarrassment was too much, she had a strong hold for a human. "It is the easiest option so you wont have to see your own blood." He stated near matter-of-fact. He could see her own mind reeling before simply agreeing after several lingering moments. "We could always go the sponge bath route if you would rather." He offered, his lips quirk into a slight smile, trying to ease that tension, her anxiety that he could practically feel raging throughout her body as though it fought against her then. His demeanour hardly shifted from that stoic resolve.

The woman already began to undress without hesitation, that is catches him off guard, surprise flits across his features as he turned his head respectfully away. There was still a desire to steal a glimpse that masculine part of him, but he remains steadfast in his composure. He had already begun shrugging off his own jacket, when she suddenly admitted to being comfortable wearing those undergarments. He nodded but his gaze snagged upon her clearly exposed, ravaged wound. A hiss escapes him, she was covered in so much blood. He took a step forward, his eyes flicker across that ravaged wound upon her neck. He was sure it looked worse than what it looked like and yet it tugged at him. His fingers reaching out to tuck her hair away so he could examine her quickly but efficiently. "I think it might look worse than it looks, at least the bleeding had stopped." He let that hand near caress that strand of blood caked ebony hair, she was lucky to be alive. To be standing here. He is ever so careful not to allow that gaze to lower, after all, he had given her his word. A sigh escapes him as that guilt seems to delve within him before she blurts out. Her eyes flicker to his, his eyes met her own. "I think I can manage this." Another masculine chuckle escapes him, reaching over to start that shower. His fingers moving with expert ease to undo his own buttons exposing his defined chest and abs. Next was his pants, he was hardly shy with his naked form, he suspected came with being a were and that utter confidence within himself. "Don't look.." He teased, as if trying to see if he could at least try for another smile. Next to come off were his pants off, along with his socks and Italian leather shoes before adding. "I'm shy." He lied through his teeth then as he bared his teeth in a grin. He left on his boxers for her own sake, knowing she would probably be much more comfortable this was as the cost of his own. He hated wet undergarments.

He placed his clothing in a neat pile upon that closed toilet seat before testing the water, adjusting the temperature a final time. "I'll wear these for you.. I hate wet undergarments though.." Her muttered near grouchily. He offered her his hand for support, "hold on to me as you see fit." His accented words part from the Englishman, his voice almost distinctly smooth then.

"You are lucky to be alive.." He muttered softly as he saw the blood stream down her body and pooling pink, diluting into the water below. He saw a cloth hanging on a hook within the shower, his hand reaching for it wordlessly, while his other hand still remains upon her, steadying the woman so she doesn't slip. "How did you survive your other vampire attack?" He inquired suddenly curious as his eyes trail along those puncture marks upon her once pristine flesh. His motives were also to keep her talking, to keep her from passing out. All while slowly helping wash away that blood from her body, his touch gentle but sure. How that close proximity made it near impossible to steal a glimpse of those undergarments that hug pleasantly to her body, even as they seemed to take on that pink hue from that blood. He promised her wouldn't look and yet he had to be thorough in these blood washing duties, right?