Though he kept his attention on Livvy, Mathus kept the other happenings in his house in his periphery. He caught the tones of an ending conversation from Brooke and the sounds of Algy cleaning up around his sink. He intended to tell the man not to worry about it once he had a moment, a habit from well-meaning guests over who lingered around his kitchen sink, but then he caught the scent of heating water.
Glancing over his shoulder, he expected to see the hot water on, but instead he was wringing the towels out, plumes of steam shimmering around his hands. It was a quaint little scene of domestic magic, and Mathus huffed a soft laugh. Oh, to have magic for drying his laundry.
After the split-second detour, his focus returned to Livvy, and he chuckled again. Asking if he could move her was a fairly rhetorical question. If she said no, he'd have left her on the table, and there she'd stay, as he sincerely doubted she would be moving under her own power. Stepping up to the edge of the table, he gently slipped his hand under her shoulders, while the other hand rearranged her legs so he could hook his other under her knees.
“It is nothing,” Mathus assured her gently as he lifted her from the table. He smiled when their eyes met, his expression warm and kind. She weighed practically nothing to the werewolf, and he turned carefully to maneuver through the kitchen and into the cool shadows of his living room. There was a large blue couch with blankets slung over the backrest. Finding Brooke in the room, the man smiled and showed her a semi-conscious, but healed Livvy, asking merrily, “Right as rain. Now will you let me look at you?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he expected to see the hot water on, but instead he was wringing the towels out, plumes of steam shimmering around his hands. It was a quaint little scene of domestic magic, and Mathus huffed a soft laugh. Oh, to have magic for drying his laundry.
After the split-second detour, his focus returned to Livvy, and he chuckled again. Asking if he could move her was a fairly rhetorical question. If she said no, he'd have left her on the table, and there she'd stay, as he sincerely doubted she would be moving under her own power. Stepping up to the edge of the table, he gently slipped his hand under her shoulders, while the other hand rearranged her legs so he could hook his other under her knees.
“It is nothing,” Mathus assured her gently as he lifted her from the table. He smiled when their eyes met, his expression warm and kind. She weighed practically nothing to the werewolf, and he turned carefully to maneuver through the kitchen and into the cool shadows of his living room. There was a large blue couch with blankets slung over the backrest. Finding Brooke in the room, the man smiled and showed her a semi-conscious, but healed Livvy, asking merrily, “Right as rain. Now will you let me look at you?”