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When shed come down the stairs and found the neither the couch nor the bed occupied, Amaranth looked towards the gentle rolling steam coming from the bathroom. If there was one thing they could agree on, it was that they both liked their water pumped straight from the boiler room of hell. The bathroom regularly found itself a sauna.

She knocked gently on the door frame and waited for acknowledgment before popping in to the rather spacious room. Closing the lid on the toilet, she took a seat.

"How are you feeling, baby?"

She'd finished her work as fast as she could so she could get started on an early dinner, knowing it had been well over twenty-four hours since Dom had eaten a proper meal. Surely by now his stomach was behaving, and he had to be starving. Up stairs on the stove, in a big pot, she had already set some chicken backs and thighs to boil. A nice and light home made chicken and rice soup would be good. She wanted nothing more than to take care of him. he just needed to allow it.

[188 words - Amaranth]

Amaranth smiled and gave a soft 'hmm,' and response, "I'm glad to hear that. Here-" Amaranth moved from where she was seated on to her knees beside the tub, "Let me help with that."

She snatched the wash cloth and soap before Dom could grab it. Part of it was her desire to help, another part of it was this gave her a prime opportunity to just lovingly caress that gorgeous form. She didn't envy his height, but those long, lithe, legs of his were high-class candy to her eyes, and she wasn't a foot person, but Dom had the most beautiful feet she had ever seen.

She had even come to appreciate the artistry in his scars. The wounds he had obtained when he was middle-school age that had ate in to muscle and permanently atrophied parts told a story of survival. The lighter, nearly invisible, ones whispered the depths of his experiences. The few raised ones a tale of recovery, and the long cut down his abdomen spoke of the impossible made possible.

He had told her the whole story. Weeks of torture at the hands of a group of bullies, tied up with spring wire and whipped with guitar strings, cut, stabbed, subjected to the slow torture of young pre-teens who didn't have the courage to aim a killing blow, or the knowledge to execute what would have been the merciful release of death upon their victimized peer. The cut to his throat had come close. They thought that had killed him. That was when he had his first seizure and episode of catalepsy.

The catalepsy had saved him when the group tossed him in a shallow grave. The shallowness of his breathing, the slowing of his heart - if not for that, he would have suffocated to death. If they dirt had been more compact, if it hadn't been more leaf meal than soil.... So many things could have gone wrong that would have stole him from this world.

He lay in that grave for over a day before one of the kids snitched. Even the rescue team and hospital had thought he was dead. It wasn't until he was on the autopsy table and that first skilled cut made down his abdomen that their mistake was revealed.

Corpses don't bleed.

He was rushed out of the morgue and in to emergency intensive care. Even their most sensitive equipment couldn't find vitals, but finally...

The entire story had been a lot. Amaranth couldn't help but admire him for getting past that to become the man he was today - not consumed with self-pity and self-victimization, but kind, gentle, generous, compassionate, and with a killer sense of humor. It would have been easy to slip in to a dark pace full of distrust and loathing, and it would have been understandable, but he had taken another path. It probably helped that he had a great family. She did envy him on that.

[494 + 188 = 682 words - Amaranth]

Amaranth was gentle but thorough, and she did secretly take a lot of amusement in the looks of indignation that would flash on Domcallion's face from time to time. She was really getting to see his pride tested, and it was that pride that made her never expect that he would actually ask her to wash his hair.

Her eyes all all but sparkled at the order, and she responded with a bright smile and emphatic nod, "I would love to!"

She probably would have just done it anyway, but to actually have him ask her to help him do something made her so happy. She loved playing with his hair anyway - it wasn't as thick as hers but it was silky. Couldn't do a damn thing with it as it was just so fine, but that was alright - just running her fingers through it was nice.

Once she was done with his body, Amaranth rose to grab the detachable shower head and set to work on his hair. She watched with smug glee as Dom's eyes all but rolled back when she would massage his scalp. His hair washed so much quicker than hers - the shampoo and conditioner washing out easily. It went way too quickly for her, and maybe him too. Turning the shower head off she let it dangle to the floor. She propped an arm on the edge of the tub and laid her head down on it, while her free hand brushed back damp hair and gently caressed Dom's cheek before cupping it in her hand, thumb and forefinger idly massaging an earlobe. She stared at him with warmth and a lazy smile.

She really could have stayed like that forever, but...

"If my love has no other demands, I'll go finish making dinner. You must be hungry..."

She had felt his stomach rumble earlier but wasn't going to tease him. She could tell his humor wasn't quite there yet.

"I'm making chicken and rice soup - generous on the pepper, right?"

[337 + 682 = 1019 words - Amaranth]

"Hmmmmm~" Amaranth pretended to think as she stood up from her prior seated position on the floor, "I guess I can allow you to do that. I'd rather wash you than the dishes anyway."

Some light teasing couldn't hurt - it seemed like Dom was beginning to lighten up, after all. And she liked to think her bright and shining personality helped to lighten the air.

"Take your time. I'll go finish dinner. Love you~"

And with that, she left, feeling a lot better than she had all day as the weight of worries that she'd been holding lifted up off her shoulders exponentially. She felt like she'd aged a good bit these last couple of days - or maybe she'd just been forced to mature a bit.

Lucky for Amaranth, she had left the chicken to boil on low, so there was no disaster waiting for her when she finally made her way back to the kitchen. The broth was ready, so she pulled out the pieces of chicken and set them aside to begin pulling the tender boiled meat off the bone and add it back to the pot along with seasonings and rice. Once the rice was plumped and tender the large pot of soup with be ready - hopefully just in time for Dom to make his way upstairs. in the mean time, Amaranth grabbed her step stool and got out two bowls, setting them on the counter beside the stove before going to set out two napkins and spoons upon the table. She also fished a sleeve of crackers out of the cabinet, but in case. She wasn't particularly the sort to have crackers with her soup, unless if was vegetable beef soup on a nice brisk autumn evening - something she was greatly looking forward to - but maybe Dom would want them. If not, it was easy enough to toss them back in the cabinet.

Just as she was checking the soup to make sure the rice was done, she head the sound of footsteps coming up the basement stairs. She turned the stove eye off and ladled the soup into the bowls, placing them on the table just as the door opened. The light but delicious smell of the soup filled the kitchen as steam rose from the freshly poured bowls. Amaranth skipped back over to the stove to place the lid back on the soup, so it would stay warm if they wanted another helping.

"Just in time! I just made our bowls oh!" She grabbed the little shaker of pepper and placed it on the table, "Just in case I didn't pepper it enough. You like it more peppery than I do."

She had originally been a little surprised that someone as mild as Dom actually had a leaning towards spice, but it was cute. That wasn't to say he liked it searing hot or barely-edible hot, but most people would find it a bit much. Luckily he was mindful of that whenever he was cooking. He could always add more spice to his own serving. It was this kind of thoughtfulness that she loved.

[520 + 1019 = 1539 words - Amaranth]