There seemed to be a hint of panic in his face and the shake of his voice as Cora let herself relax in the chair.  She wasn’t worried at all, and yet the look in his eyes told her that he was just a little bit out of his comfort zone.  She had to be honest, she imagined a lot of their relationship was probably outside of his comfort zone, but he’d risen (hah) tremendously to each occasion and Cora was not worried in the slightest. 

She smirked at him, wrapping her fingers on the arm of the chair and sighed in anticipation.  Cora wasn’t the type to close her eyes – at least not yet and smiled fondly as Thomas seemed to remember that fact, looking up at her.  One of her only tells was the sharp intake of breath and Cora’s grip tightened around the chair just a little bit. 

He was certainly thinking – and persistent, for material could easily be removed, but Cora had no complaints.  She tightened her knee about his shoulder, the heel of her shoe perhaps digging into his back just a little bit while she murmured some very genuine praise and gentle instruction sandwiched in: Cora had no problem talking about things, even if they were punctuated by little gasps and pleased whines. 

Tossing her hair over her shoulder (it was obstructing her view), Cora arched her back in the seat, reclining her neck back for a moment.  There was a delightful heat building up and she resisted the urge to squirm.  Her breathing was growing more ragged and Cora’s lips parted with another shuddering whine.  “Stop,” she finally managed to command in a firm voice: it was so close, but… she really did enjoy the anticipation, evident in the way her heart was thumping in her chest. 

She didn’t want to worry him, or suggest he was not doing an exemplary job, so Cora pushed herself forward, perched on the edge of the chair while she pulled him by the back of her neck into a very demanding kiss.  She ran her hands through his hair, using her nails against his scalp and leaned her nose against his when she finally needed air.  “You,” she punctuated that with another brief kiss, “are bloody brilliant.” 

She followed up with a light nip on his bottom lip and gently pushed him back, “You can keep your hands to yourself,” she instructed with a little smirk before she moved her hands to her thighs so she could unhook her stockings.  She had no intention of removing them, just helping remove a little obstacle.  Cora did decide to take her time; after all, she also had no intention of ripping anything she’d created.  With her suspenders unhooked, Cora pushed herself up from the seat and hooked her thumbs under the thin fabric, swiveling her hips just a little before she pushed it down, letting it fall to the floor before it joined her dress.  She made much quicker work of reattaching her suspenders to her tights. 

“Better?” she asked rhetorically, obviously it was better!  Of course, it seemed the chair was not an ideal place – though it did remind her somewhat of a throne, and she did appreciate that, it didn’t allow for much… so Cora began to walk, reaching behind her to unhook.  She shrugged her shoulders forward, letting the straps fall and dropped the other garment before she glanced over her shoulder, “Are you coming?”

If her heel dug in a little painfully, Thomas was focused enough (and a little drunk) to not notice very much. As new as this was, in relation to his adult life and lack of relationships, he was very eager to make it work. Thomas wanted to be the best right now, but he was willing to take direction and improve upon what he started with.

It also seemed to help that she gave simple direction and helpful criticism as he was doing it. It allowed him time for trial and error. It felt super important to not fail at this. Thomas took the praise with an ego boost and the instruction with a desire to improve upon his technique. She had made him realize early on there was no reason to get upset with himself; it wasn’t a fail unless he gave up. So he hadn’t given up and thought he was improving pretty well, considering.

Thomas was encouraged by the noise she made. When she said for him to stop, it took a moment for it to register. And then he quickly did, pulling back as he took a few deep breaths, licking his lips. He wondered, briefly, what the problem was.

And then she was kissing him, and he went with it, letting out his own breath as her nails drove shivers down his back. His cheeks were flushed for a different reason, and he grinned at her compliment. Thomas moved to kiss her deeper when she pushed him back. He caught himself on his palms while leaning back, slightly uncomfortable in his position, but watching her nonetheless. Thomas merely raised his eyebrows at her new instruction, eyes trailing down to watch her hands.

His mouth opened and eyes widened as she did her thing. Thomas couldn’t pull his eyes away, and there was an insistent throbbing that was getting painful. The show Cora gave him was top notch in his book. He swallowed audibly as that frustrating material was suddenly gone. Her question made him nod his head, tongue licking his lips as he took in a stuttered breath. When she walked around him, he turned to watch her, eyes taking in the back of... wait.

Glancing as the next piece was discarded, he didn’t wait for her to ask again before he scrambled up, wincing as material pulled before he was on his feet. “Yes!” He cleared his throat and grinned, quickly following after her. Once in her bedroom, he felt the familiar nervous jitters that always seemed to come with being around Cora for any length of time. He crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly self-conscious, glancing over her perfect everything. “S-so...” Thomas gave her a smile and waited for the next bit of instruction.

Eagerness was something Cora appreciated and Thomas had no end of that.  When he followed her, Cora just continued to saunter taking her time before they entered her room.  It was one of her favorite places in the world, spacious and lush - and hers.  After she left her great grandmother'a house she couldn't imagine ever living somewhere that wasn't her responsibility ever again:  She had visited Thomas' place before, but it wasn't exactly the same.  For a lot of reasons.  She didn't mind though, she preferred to be in her own flat anyway and Thomas was a very welcome guest. 

After making her way in and stretching her neck, she turned on her heel and smiled warmly at the look on his face.  His arms were crossed and he looked a little nervous but had that little smile.  It made a new surge of pixies flutter in her stomach, feeling warm all over (even though she was completely aware of the chill in the large room).  He just made her feel that way, like she was special and worth some effort and appreciation.  Out of all the relationships Cora had had, she was fairly certain Thomas was the best one she'd ever had.  She already liked him more than anyone else, so who knew?

Dwelling on anything but the present seemed unwise, anyway.  He questioned and Cora had no problem answering.  She walked back and sat directly on the center of her bed, scooting herself back so she could lounge appropriately, propped up on her elbows. Her hair was splayed over her shoulders and upper chest as she smiled.  "Come here," she instructed sweetly, patting the bed next to her.  "Get comfortable," she added moving for him to have room.  When he got there, she helped him with his undershirt, so very glad it was going away and gently pushed him back so she was sitting looking him over with a fond and appreciative gaze, she ran her hand over his chest, scratching her nails against his skin before she leaned down to kiss him on the mouth first then over to his cheek, then ear and finally neck.  Her lips lingered there for a second before she pulled back.  "One second," she informed him and rolled her hips to perch on the edge of the bed. 

She rummaged through a drawer in her nightstand to extract what she needed (only a couple of odds and ends) and tossed them by her side.  Looking over her shoulder at Thomas, Cora couldn't help but grin.  Taking the two little tubes, streaked in icy blue and red, Cora tossed one at Thomas' chest and kept one for herself.  Hot and cold lip balm.  "Put that on," she smirked and scooted back to her pillows, uncapping her own tube, pursed her lips and applied.  It tingled at first, cold like ice mice and she shivered.  "Then kiss me."

Thomas blinked as he stared at her assets, licking his lips slowly. He was definitely head over loafers for her, but this... he needed something to drink. Or something to occupy his mind. Which, well, yes, hello. There was a lot to be happy about with his view.

And then she rounded the corner, and his view was cut. He looked up and nearly ran into the door frame, pushing away just slightly as his hands found the wood. Once he was back on his feet, steady, he stepped into it and held onto the frame, grinning as he leaned through. “Hey.” He was nervous; Thomas gently bit his lower lip.

Then he stepped in and fully crossed his arms over his chest, swallowing hard. He had hoped that things would calm down on the walk to her bedroom, but if anything... it was just harder to concentrate. And as she settled on to the bed, his eyes followed and watched as things shifted and opened and... and he stared blatantly. Her thinly veiled order had him moving forward, slowly crawling over her duvet as he followed her directions.

A soft grunt escaped as she helped him out, the shirt discarded to the side while he grinned. How could he not with the way she looked at him? Thomas settled into the pillows and tried to relax. What silly thought in his head made him think he was going to be able to relax, though? Especially as she pushed him further back and started on him with her lips. Goosebumps ran over him as his eyes closed, responding to her lips slowly.

He stared at the offered tubes, accepting the red one before he opened it. “Ok...” His look was questioning, but he didn’t ask. Her instructions were explanation enough, he supposed. Thomas moved the stick over his lips, eyes widening in shock as he pulled away, glancing at it. “Oh, oh wow.” A chuckle escaped before he applied a little more, leaning in and over her to touch her lips. What started off as a soft, small kiss turned quickly into an exploring one, moving hot and cold between lips.

After the kiss ended, he grinned wide and glanced over her face. It was electrifying in a surprising way. “What else do you have in there?” Eyebrow cocked before he leaned over her and opened the drawer again, his smile freezing as he stared at all the possibilities. Wow.

Finally he pulled out a tub as his free arm held him up, grunting softly as he lifted it to shake at her. “How do you use this?” His curiosity was getting the better of him. He didn’t realize latex came in such ways.

The giggle that came out of Cora’s mouth was entirely too innocent for the circumstance.  The initial shock of the cinnamon lip balm had clearly gotten him.  She smiled even wider when he applied another layer.  It was sort of surprising to her too: there was a distinct possibility he wouldn’t like it.  But, she guessed by the little laugh and the way he went about doing it again he must have. 

Cora, in response, applied another generous layer of her own and smacked her lips and leaned back when he pressed his lips to hers.  The second the two sensations came together was the best part.  Well, the first best part.  There were plenty of following best parts. 

Reaching up, Cora scratched her nails against the curve of his jaw and whined a little as he ended the kiss.  She could have gone on kissing for a while, even despite the tingling sensation (the two balms mixed together were still playing hot and cold).  Cora grabbed up the little tubes and put them on her nightstand, following Thomas’ gaze (she might want them for later).    “Curious?” her eyes followed his hands and she made no move to stop him. 

Though her eyes remained interested, the rest of Cora’s face rested.  She had to avoid running her tongue over her lips – she’d have nothing to do with that.  Drumming her fingers against her thigh, she crossed one knee over the other, her heel digging into the duvet she’d made herself. 

What he’d extracted made Cora smile.  She gingerly took the tub from his hands and shook it a little bit – the liquid sloshing inside.  “I’ll show you,” she smirked, giving him a cursory glance to see just where she could.  It would not do well anywhere with hair (She’d learned that the hard way) – and looking over Thomas… well. 

Cora uncapped the bottle, a little brush attached to the cap and it swirled in the metallic purple liquid.  She took his hand and flipped it over to look at his palm.  “Watch,” she instructed and swiped it over the surface, blowing on it to make it dry faster (magic properties helped).   It dried into a sheen of sparkling purple, and she tilted his hand back and forth to show off the gleam. 

“See?” she looked up at him positively beaming.  "It's not so good with hair," she teased, running her hand up his arm - hoping it'd get the point across.    That would be unpleasant for him... at least without some grooming.  She picked up the tub and cap to hold out to him, “But... you can try.”   It was sort of a question... but not really.  Pressing her lips together, she waited to see what he would do.  The offer was definitely on the table.

Of course Thomas was curious. Cora was full of surprises; she was not quite as cookie cutter as one might assume upon first meeting. She was so much more than her job. Thomas often worried he was exactly as he appeared. Or maybe not often... he just didn’t want to be boring for Cora. He was eager to please, though, and always up for what Cora had in mind. Because why would he not?

He licked his lips at her words. Here was another instance where she was willing to show him something new and different. And like most things so far, Thomas waited expectantly. He shifted slightly before resting his hands in his lap. At least until she took his hand; he let her move it, glancing from her hand to the tub and then up to her face, eyebrows raising in question.

“Ok.” Thomas could watch. He did that really well. Sometimes he wasn’t the best at following her direction, but he was willing to keep trying until he got it. Or close enough that she seemed pleased.

The feel of the cool liquid made him want to twitch, but he kept it together as she blew on it. “Oh... that’s... it’s different.” Thomas wasn’t sure how he felt about how it... felt. He flexed his hand and tried not to grimace. Goosebumps forced hair to stand up as her hand ran over his arm; he laughed and blushed.

Wait... he could try? Thomas scratched absentmindedly at the area near his palm before picking up the brush and dipping it in again. “You sure?” Once he had confirmation, Thomas began to paint in slow, short strokes on her chest, giggling a little at the way things perked up. He paused to scratch a little more at his palm, grimacing. “Does this stuff itch, normally?” Thomas tried to ignore it as he went to paint on her other side.

After a few moments, he made a pained grunt as he frowned. It was burning now. “This doesn’t seem very pleasant...” He put the brush back in the liquid latex before turning his attention back to his palm, itching around and over it. “How do I get it off?”

His reaction was, as usual, reticent but not without curiosity.  Cora was happy to teach though, and enjoyed watching as there was a little shiver up his arms.  “It can be weird at first,” she conceded, “but you find you get used to the feeling.”  At least Cora had – and found she genuinely enjoyed it.  There was something very engaging about the way it stretched and formed a layer over one’s skin – like a custom piece of clothing. 

She might have sat up just a little taller when he asked permission, and Cora had to suppress her grin.  “Of course – go ahead,” she urged as she rolled her shoulders back and leaned her hands into the mattress to hold herself up, eyeing him with anticipation (perhaps even licking her bottom lip as she waited). 

There was a brief moment of anticipation before Cora gasped, letting her head fall back. It didn’t even matter that he wasn’t exactly doing a good job of creating a… solid coat.  The sensation was just nice – and she arched her back, a low whine easing out of her throat before another breathy sigh as the brush was barely touching her skin.  Cora shifted a little, trying to create a little bit more pressure, at the same time moving her legs a little wider. 

She opened her eyes when it stopped and was about to ask him what the matter was when he asked her a question.  “It can,” she pursed her lips and rolled her head.  “But – you should,” she wet her lips again, “use a little bit more paint.”  After having momentarily glanced at herself, it was just a little patchy looking – perhaps the brush was too much.  “You can finger paint, if you’d like,” she grinned with her eyes shut, leaning all the ways back onto the duvet expectantly, her hands moving up into her hair. 
 
He apparently didn’t take her suggestion into consideration – but no matter.  She’d offered it as just that.  It’d have been a bigger problem if she’d issued it as a demand.  Scratching her nails onto her scalp, Cora sighed again – more breathy this time – pressing her knees together.  Eyes snapped open when he stopped, a flash of frustration across her face.  “What?” she frowned, stretching as she slowly pushed herself up.  It took a second for her eyes to adjust again, eyelids fluttering before she saw him picking at his hand. 

“Let me,” she said perhaps a little more gruffly than she intended, and grabbed onto his hand.  That was odd.  There was a redness around the edge of the purple streak across his palm.  Tilting her head to the side, she dug her nail into the thin layer and peeled it back.  “Oh Godric!” she exclaimed before clamping her free hand over her mouth. 

There were red, angry bumps where the strip had been and Cora quickly made work of peeling the rest.  “I think,” she bit her lip, “um… it’s probably not as bad as it looks,” she tried to move quickly but without looking frantic.  “Let me go get something… You stay here,” she smiled encouragingly (trying to suppress the nervous laughter from discomfort) before darted to the bathroom.  There had to be a salve somewhere... "One second!" she called out from the bathroom, knocking down a couple things in her medicine cabinet on her way to find something. 

Oh shite.

Weird was one way to describe it. Thomas made a face, scrunching up his nose a bit before shrugging. It might take some time, but he didn’t want to back out of it. Especially because he had her on display and at his fingertips. Or paintbrush-tip... Either way, she was right there and he felt a familiar pull as he tried to focus on her and the paint.

Her reaction definitely dulled his attention to himself. The burning and itching worsened, but he could brush that off, to an extent, with the noises she let slip out. They encouraged him and made his heart beat harder against his ears.

His cheeks flushed as his eyes took her in. Thomas was definitely not an accomplished painter. That much was obvious. He was, however, enjoying himself. For the most part. Except for the increased itchiness.

As much fun as finger painting sounded, Thomas decided he preferred the brush right now. He was having a few conflicting emotions going on, after all. He was excited about the prospects, focused on his work, and also experiencing increasing burning and itching pain on his palm. It was becoming harder to ignore the longer he sat there. It was a bit weird... He glanced briefly at the tub, as if it would say that was what it was supposed to do. Like the hot and cold tubes they had used, but on the body as a whole.

Which, he at first thought would be fun, after the tubes, but now... he wasn’t a fan. And neither was Cora, of him stopping. Thomas only briefly caught the annoyance in her expression; it was enough to make him swallow and blush, shrugging helplessly. Maybe he was being a big baby; maybe it worked differently on gingers. He didn’t know!

He slumped a little when she took his hand, lips pursed to the side. What she uncovered had his eyes widening in shock.

That was an angry reaction. And by her exclamation, it wasn’t what she had experienced with this tub in the past. Lips parted as he tried to think of words to use; it almost looked as if it was getting redder by the moment. The burning and itching intensified, and he couldn’t help but scratch at the area around it. “It looks pretty bad...” He trailed off as she stood and rushed off. Well, that was encouraging.

Thomas looked back down at his arm, encouraging himself to relax and breathe. Which he could still do, so it wasn’t that bad, right? Had it been red on his wrist? There hadn’t been bumps on his forearm before, had there been? Perhaps Thomas just hadn’t noticed - oh, his other hand had it too. He blinked at his fingertips (which, of course, he’d just scratched his face with). He swallowed and shifted on the bed, glancing over his shoulder to the bathroom.

“Uh... C-Cora?” His voice cracked before he took another breath, attempting to calm himself. What would his sister say to take? He absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair, holding on to the back of his head as he rubbed his itching and burning hand on his bare thigh. Ugh, it really was uncomfortable. “I’m really itchy.” His face was itching now. His hand reached up and scratched first at it and then his other hand itched at the original spot.

His stomach threatened to flip, but he fought to keep the contents down. Why was he nauseous? That was... weird.

His reaction was a little muted – but the way his eyes were trained on his palm and he looked a little bit scared.  Cora immediately felt bad for being irritated with him for stopping.  Sure, she’d been enjoying herself – but his hand was already starting to swell.   Plus she sort of screwed up when she exclaimed at the sight of it – it was much worse than anything she’d ever seen before, rope burns included. 

She gulped and rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand.  “It’ll be okay – I have something that should help,” she assured him, leaning forward to kiss him quickly.  The dash could have been comical if it wasn’t for something so important.  She scrambled off the bed, her heels hitting the ground and pushed off with her palms to get a running start toward the bathroom. 

Upon entering, Cora realized her bathroom was an impossible mess for this situation.  She really needed to find the little jar of ointment that she used to calm burns.  She didn’t know if it was going to work best right now, but maybe it would help.  She knocked a towel down off the top shelf by accident – cursing at herself as it fell into the tub.  She’d take care of it later. 

Looking at the shelves, she saw some q-tips, a brush, assorted lotions… there was some face cream.  She lifted an unmarked tube and popped the cap open: coconut smell, definitely not what she was looking for right now.  When she heard Thomas call her name, Cora yelled back: “One second, Love!” trying to be supportive, and then unceremoniously knocked over a glass jar that had contained cotton balls (perhaps nerves or her own slight slip of the tongue). 

Another more vulgar slip of the tongue accented the crash of the jar on the ground, causing Cora to jump out of the way as it smashed across the floor.  She obviously did not have her wand on her person at the moment and she was frazzled.  A string of curses wasn’t unforeseen, right?  She bit hard on her bottom lip and let out a deep breath. 

“I’m coming in one second!” she didn’t anticipate saying that in this context… but Cora grabbed the last jar on the shelf (of course) and overstepped the mess that she’d deal with later to hurry back to the room.  Thomas hadn’t moved from the bed, thankfully, but he looked bad.  Oh Godric.  He was really pale (more than usual) and the redness it seemed had spread. 

Usually he was just a nice flush of pink because whatever she had in store for him was new and well – that was pretty standard territory, but this was a patchy sort of angry redness that was definitely because of something else.  “I’m back,” she assured him, hurrying over to the bed as she struggled with the lid of the jar.  “Don’t panic,” she instructed softly, grunting as she tried to uncap it. 

The damn thing was so stubborn though, and Cora breathed out loudly in frustration.  “I got this,” she huffed and then grabbed the corner of her duvet, wrapping it around to twist the cap off.  Of course, the jar went flying and half the contents plopped on the floor with an unpleasant squelch.  Cora cursed again and hurried to kneel, grabbing the now broken jar from the floor.  “Oh! Oh no!” she frowned, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. 

There seemed to be enough left that it’d be… adequate.  “Here,” she crawled up onto the bed, placing the cracked jar next to her and took his hand.  “Just relax,” she dipped her free hand into the calming cream and started to rub it into his palm.  “Maybe you should lay down,” she added softly, looking over his still very pale face.  “Definitely lay down,” she changed her mind and pressed her palm against his upper chest, just trying to get him to calm down and get some color back in his face. 

“It’ll be okay,” she added, resuming her attention to his hand, the one with the worse looking rash having formed, dipping her hand in the cream again to start working her way up his wrist and forearm.  “Just… breathe,” she reminded him, eyeing his face and watching for signs of anything else going on… This was not how she imagined this going. 

Thomas hardly noticed the sound of glass shattering. He was staring at himself in quiet shock as... things got worse. He swallowed hard as his eyes continued to widen, admiring the quickness that... whatever this was spread.

Her words sounded like they were coming through a fog. When she was there, he blinked at her, his head a little lightheaded. Don’t panic were words to live by, but they were much easier said than done. Thomas swallowed and nodded, not realizing yet that he had spread it to his leg, now. He scratched at his thigh with one hand while the other scratched his forearm.

He nearly jumped back when the jar went flying, stumbling out of the way as he pushed himself up a little onto her duvet. “That was close.” He let her rub the salve into his palm; it was instantly cooler, the itching slowing down the longer she rubbed it in. His eyes threatened to roll back; was he having difficulty breathing? Where did that come from? His mouth opened to gulp air when she pushed him back, momentarily stopping him.

Now that he was lying down, he could see what the problem was. He rubbed his nose with his other hand, an overwhelming itchiness irritating him. His nose felt like he was breathing through coffee straws; Thomas’ mouth opened as he took measured breaths. He was trying to breathe. It just wasn’t working. He sat up suddenly, his hands pulling from her as he started to scratch at his throat, swallowing painfully. A gasp escaped; his voice was higher pitched as he wheezed.

“What-” His breathing was too fast; hyperventilating was new to the wandmaker. It wasn’t long before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell where his weight was mostly. Which ended up being off the side of the bed (where his leg had been dangling, toes touching the ground). A solid thump was heard as he landed shoulder and then face first, rolling onto the floor with limbs strewn in different directions, some caught up under him.

Cora was more nervous than before.  He seemed to be having a really difficult time with his breathing and though she was sure that the salve she put on his hand was something that could work.  Apparently not though, especially when Thomas gasped for breath.  “Thomas?” Cora asked, biting her lip and squeezed his hand – hoping she’d calm him down.

But it only seemed to make things worse.  Thomas’ chest was moving up and down way too quickly and he was sort of sitting up – kind of – but not really, she guessed as his eyes rolled back into his head.  “Thomas?!” she asked again with an urgent squeak – her voice cracking as he ended up rolling off the side of the bed.  “Oh no!” she tossed the jar of salve behind her (it didn’t even matter if it landed upside down).  She reached to the edge of the bed and peered over, seeing him landing like that. 

“Oh Godric, no!” she bit her lip and lowered herself so she was laying on the edge of the bed and reached down.  “Thomas?” she asked again, pushing at his shoulder – which just seemed to move his body without actually waking him up.  “Thomas, come on – it’s not funny anymore,” her tone changed and she pushed at his shoulder again.  She just wanted him to wake up – but he didn’t move and the rash seemed to be spreading over his back.  Cora was breathing deeply now too. 

Before she tried again – which seemed to be a spectacular failure (and insanity to keep going), Cora shoved herself back and jumped off the bed, glancing back at Thomas.  “Oh Godric,” she breathed again and rushed out of the bedroom.  Where on Earth was her wand?  On the way out, she grabbed her robe and pulled it around her (latex be damned), securing the purple sash around her waist as she made her way to the living room. 

She probably looked ridiculous, but it hardly mattered because she just rushed to grab her wand off the counter and she rushed back to her bedroom, to the window.  Green sparks were cast in the air and Cora let out a deep breath, hoping someone from the hospital would get there quickly. 

Of course, blessedly for this one time tonight, her expectations were met with reality and there was a knock on her door, immediately following a very loud pop.  Cora rushed out of the room again and opened the door for a healer.  It hardly registered that the person was tall and chiseled.  Cora was just happy the mediwizard had a bag.  “This way,” she instructed, hurrying across the floor toward her room. 

“He just – I think he’s allergic to something,” she informed him, glancing to the mussed up bed and the tub of liquid latex on the middle – her tub of burn ointment turned upside down (probably leaked all over the duvet by now).  The healer looked at her (oh wow, deep blue eyes)– then the bed – then Thomas (who she had totally forgotten was also just in his underwear) and well… Cora felt a little bit of a flush.  She shook her head: focus on your boyfriend!  “Help him,” she informed him with irritation.  The healer snorted and bent down on his knee, opening the bag. 

“I don’t know if he was breathing,” Cora explained after he asked her what happened (in a very low, gravelly voice), “and he just started getting red all over his body – I tried an ointment but he got all pale and then…” she trailed off, looking at the healer as he mixed something in his bag out of a couple of different tubes.  “Is he going to be okay?” she asked, playing with her wand in her hands.  She was surprised it didn’t break in half - and didn't give him a chance to answer before she was already demanding again: “Is he going to be okay?”

“We’ll see in a minute,” the healer responded, a confused expression on his face after he seemed to look at her, then at Thomas (who he had rearranged on the floor to be on his side) and then back at Cora.  The way his eyes just so happened to roll up her legs...   She furrowed her brows at him and frowned - which he seemed to take it as a sign to turn around and help the liquid down Thomas’ throat (with a very… unbecoming declaration of “Bottoms up”).  Cora fiddled her fingers together and dug the toe of her shoe in the ground.  She was so nervous.   

The blackness that surrounded him was like a cool blanket; it wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it was better than no blanket at all. Small gasps of air were being sucked past the mostly closed throat, allowing just enough oxygen to circulate while his body attempted to recover from the onslaught of a very angry allergen.

This was only the third time Thomas had ever been exposed to latex. Not that he’d know the number for certain, but it was. The second time had been a pair of gloves he’d grabbed from St. Mungo’s when his grandmother was in the hospital, years ago, blowing them up to keep himself occupied after the magazines had lost their interest. For some reason, his body had decided, on that last time, that it considered the latex a hostile organism.

And thus, histamines. And where they were now. With Thomas face down on the ground splayed about, drool starting to form on the floor. He couldn’t respond to her because, hello, dark blanket.

The entire excitement over the healer showing up was not shared by him. Or mediwitch, or whatever it was. The movement he felt, but didn’t really... comprehend. It was more comfortable, for sure. The liquid being poured into his mouth took a moment to stimulate the desire to swallow, and after a moment he did. It was so hard to, but as it worked its way down his esophagus, he started to feel better.

As in, his eyes started to flutter open as he blinked a blurry landscape into place. His throat hurt really bad. Thomas grimaced as he swallowed painfully, groaning as he turned slightly towards the person huddled close to him. Arms reached out and settled on their hip. “What... Cora...?” His eyes continued to adjust and he realized, very quickly, it was not Cora. He pulled away and hurriedly sat up, stumbling like a half drunken buffoon.

He looked down at his arms; there was still some blotchy redness, but it wasn’t as angry. And he could breathe! Thomas swallowed again, finally spotting Cora; he tried not to feel shame, though the embarrassment seemed to seep over his face. About the same time, he realized what he was only wearing, and his face seemed to stain further. He fought to keep his dignity together, messing with his boxers just briefly before crossing his leg, leaning against the bed.

“You’ll need to apply this salve to all effected areas; you should see a clear up almost immediately, but it could take up to half an hour. Also, keep an anti-histamine potion with you at all times. You had the worst reaction possible, and you don’t want to do that again. As soon as you start to feel it, you need to take it.” The man’s eyes ghosted over to Cora, amusement still evident. “And perhaps stop playing with whatever caused it.” He stood up and produced the vials, handing them over.

“You can get more at the apothecary, and follow up with a healer within five days.” He tipped his hat to Cora before doing the same to Thomas, smirking as he did. “Is there anything else I can help with?” His arm flexed as he lifted the shoulder bag of goodies back up.
 Thomas shook his head.

Cora stared at the healer and Thomas on the floor with an expression that could only be fear.  She hadn’t anticipated this happening, and she wanted to make sure that he was okay.  She’d dealt with a fair share of crazy things in her day – the worst of which being a dislocated shoulder once, at least until this moment.

She gnawed on the fingernail of her right hand and whined a little bit as the moments seemed to drag on.  When his eyes started to flutter, Cora felt a huge weight lifting off her shoulders.  In fact, the tension literally seeped out of her and she was so happy, her previously chewed on finger flying to her chest in relief, she didn’t even care that he’d practically felt up the healer in the process.

The Healer did not seem fazed either.  Thomas, however, looked absolutely horrified and she bit her lip, trying to suppress any smile at his discomfort – and the look on his face.  Now that he was safe, she could relax a little – even find some humor in it – not that she’d let Thomas know that (for the time being – until he felt better).  The man remained near Thomas, giving careful directions that Cora listened to with rapt attention. 

There was a salve that needed to be applied, some kind of potion that needed to be carried at all times – apparently whatever happened was really, really bad.  Cora didn’t even know that could happen from someone just touching something.  It pained her, but she’d definitely be throwing that little tub away.  A redness colored her cheeks when the man seemed so amused over what had caused and Cora cleared her throat, lifting her chin with a little nod.

She understood what she was being told and took the items the man offered to her, coughing again as she avoided eye contact.  She was notoriously shameless when it came to Thomas… but… this was different.  At the question if there was anything else he could help with, Cora bit her tongue – he was smiling just a little too sneakily for her taste and she shook her head.  “No, thank you,” she said tersely, wanting to focus on Thomas. 

“You stay here,” she looked around the Healer’s very broad shoulders, “I’ll be right back.” Her eyes moved back to the smirking healer.  “Let me show you out,” she offered – heading straight for the door – she didn’t want him to overstay – or keep smirking like that.  Not okay. 

She led him to the door and thanked him, to which, of course, he leaned against the doorframe and informed her it was no problem.  Normally, this might have elicited a smile from Cora, but she was a little perturbed and couldn’t wait to shut the door firmly behind him to rush back.  As soon as that happened, Cora slowed her pace (She didn’t want to drop what she’d just been given) and walked back to the room. 

“I am so sorry,” she led off with as soon as she crossed the door.  “I didn’t know,” she added, lowering her eyes before she walked up and sank down next to him.  “I was so scared,” she added, putting her hand on his arm before cuddling up to his side.  “My burn ointment wasn’t working and you fell off the bed,” not that he didn’t know that, of course, but she needed to explain how she felt about it since there was just a lot of word vomit happening at the moment, “And then I called the healers and that guy showed up,” she gave his arm a squeeze before wrapping her arm around his front and draped her arm across him.  “I swear, I’ve never experienced that before.” 

Cora turned her head and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.  Maybe more than one before she leaned her forehead against the same spot.  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she nuzzled him again; readjusting her robe to make sure no more latex touched him.  “I would have died if something really bad happened… ” she squeezed again, cheek pressed against him, a small sigh escaping her:“Do you want me to help you with that salve?”

Thomas was still pretty pale and a little shaky; he wasn’t planning on going anywhere. He merely nodded at her instructions, leaning against the bed as his hands helped hold him up, the coolness of the ground helping to keep him focused. His heart still beat furiously against his chest as they walked out. What had the healer guy given him? Thomas made a face and closed his eyes as his head rested against her duvet.

The Healer added that she would want to keep an eye on his heart rate; if it got too high, he might pass out. When Cora shut the door in his face, he merely shrugged and started for the stairs.

Eyes opened at her voice. Thomas turned his head and looked at her, smiling weakly before raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to be sorry.” His arm felt ten times heavier than usual, but he put it around her torso anyway, pulling her in close. “I was wondering why my face hurt.” He tried to smirk and got half of one out. Why was he so tired?

“I haven’t either, Cora.” It wasn’t as if he’d been hiding an allergy list from her. The side of her head nuzzled against hers, his lips pressing lightly against the side of her head. “Sh... don’t talk like that. I’m fine.” Her offer of help, however...

He grinned and raised an eyebrow. “I mean... it might’ve gotten all over. Maybe I can’t reach everything. I could definitely use some help.” Thomas closed his eyes again and yawned. He grimaced and cut his yawn off short. “My face hurts.”

He could say he was fine all he wanted, and he could tell her to shh, but that didn’t help Cora feel better.  For all of the things she didn’t apologize for, she was going to make up for it in spades over this.  He shouldn’t have been the one kissing her head and comforting her!  That was ridiculous.  Pushing herself back upright, she Cora shook her head. 

He looked really cute, sitting there on the floor with his eyes closed, looking sleepy.  If he hadn’t almost pretty much died on her floor, she would have commented on it.  Though, he was grinning.  That was a good sign at least, right?  It had to be.  “Why don’t you,” she leaned forward to kiss him, softly of course, “get yourself up on that bed,” she reached near his head and tapped the duvet against the side of the mattress. 

“And I,” she pulled back, but rested her forehead against his, “am going to go take a bath – get this off,” she motioned toward herself and pulled her robe to the side a little bit, just to remind him – and flirt a little as she quickly closed the robe back over and rocked back onto her toes so she could get herself up.  She paused for a moment and kissed him again before she stood. 

“Get that tube ready,” she smiled, “and if you want to get started without me,” she started to walk toward the door, grinning over her shoulder as she went, “I can get all the parts you can’t reach when I get back.  Twenty minutes, tops.  I promise.”  She dashed through the door, quickly making her way to the bathroom: the quicker she went the better at this point.  She just wouldn't risk not taking a shower at this point.  The last thing she wanted was another reason to send up green sparks!