"You’ve felt like this before?" he asked as he stripped off her boots, averting his eyes with the same chagrin he had before when he had tried to touch her in a way more intimate than suggested by a mere word.
He was a doctor, and a body by any sex was a body, but Lilith’s would always be so much more sweet to him. And some part of him felt wrong looking. He let his eyes wander over her thighs and swallowed at her calves. She wasn’t pretty, no more than a bloated corpse still looked human. But she was still Lilith, and he was always morbid for gross beauty. Outlines and dead sunken skin were fine to him, and Lilith was Lilith.
He found his eyes resting on her knees, like he was Catholic or something that could find something hard to do even without the faintest bit of eroticism. Like he had choked on something then wasn’t able to swallow after hacking it up and trying to eat again. It wouldn’t go down his throat, his tongue wouldn’t move.
He was a sorry excuse for a medical professional right now.
He stripped them off, leaving her in her underwear.
"Going to shower you, and hopefully that will clean the wound."
His eyes found her face with furrowed eyebrows. He could say that he was sorry that this had happened, but the point was moot. He was just not swallowing.
He could only wrap an arm around her waist to help her up, delaying taking off her underwear and really hating himself.
"Of course. There are plenty who have done so as well," she smiled sadly, shaking her head and Standing with his aid. She moved to remove them herself, careful not to exacerbate her injuries further. She sighed and looked up at him, wishing that she had the choice to kiss him. On the lips. The cheek. To be held and know she was loved. Or at least safe from the one who had hurt her. But she wasn’t. And she wouldn’t be.