111 Touch

"Ah… you stupid," Vixen muttered, as he looked down at her face. 

"C-cold… I-I'm cold," Regan stuttered through quivering lips. 

"Yeah," Vixen sighed, "I heard you the first time." 

Regan gave a brief chuckle. "D-Damien?"

Vixen's eyes rolled into their sockets. "Like he'd be anywhere near this building. Or near you," she mumbled. 

"What did you say Dammy?" Regan asked, a smile on her face. "It's been a while since I heard you."

"That's cuz' it isn't him," Vixen snapped, "it's Vixen."

"Ah…" Regan muttered. Her face switched to a frown. "Who are you?" 

Vixen's mouth opened but no words came out. "Nevermind. Are you still cold?" 

Regan gave a tiny nod, her heavy eyelashes refusing to let her open them to see who was in front of her. She shuddered again, the overwhelming rush of shivers running down her body. Her throat tightened. She could still feel the hand.

Vixen looked down at her and the pool of vomit beside her body. He let out a deep sigh. "Close your eyes, you can't see anyways."

Regan, despite only hearing the quiet, deep voice of the stranger felt the need to adhere to his words. Her heavy eyelids close.

"Ok, don't be alarmed," Vixen murmured. His arm covered her back and he pulled her close, putting his other arm under legs, then hefted her up. "I'm only taking you to your bed, no place else, ok?"

Regan once again nodded. She flinched when she felt herself get higher in the air, the stranger's strong muscular hands held her carefully. She hated the feeling of being suspended in the air. Her throat tightened and she trembled. 

The stranger began to move, steady steps showing no sign of hardship while he held her. 

"We're here, I'm going to place you on your bed now," Vixen announced, standing over the bed. "You ready to come down?" 

Regan nodded. 

He gently laid her down and grabbed the bedsheets at the edge of her bed, covering her body with it. 

A layer of warmth laid on top of Regan. Slowly her heavy breathing calmed down and her tensed up body relaxed into the bed. She could hear quiet footsteps in the room, they were getting further away from her. 

"Are you leaving?" Regan asked, her voice holding a twinge of sadness. 

Vixen looked back at her, his shoulders dropping a bit in relief. She looked comfy. "No, I'm not. You made a bit of a mess. I can't ignore the mess."

Regan nodded with understanding. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't apologize, I'm ok with it. As long as you're ok," Vixen smiled. A bit of stress that had been laying on his shoulders released. 'She sounded ok.' He bent down and using the toilet papers he had found in the bathroom, began to clean up her mess.

"Most likely, unless another issue is brought up then I'll have to stay to look after you," Vixen sighed. 

"You don't sound too happy," Regan muttered, her voice dropping and her curiosity dropping with it. "Did I make you upset? Are you mad at me?"

Vixen turned back at Regan for a moment before turning back to clean. He chuckled. 'She sounds so pure like this, despite the fact that she had a panic attack a minute or so before,' he thought to himself. 'I bet her present self would hate to even know that I was in her company. She would probably curse me out the moment her eyes laid on me.'

His smile widened. 'Was she also like this when she was drunk?' he thought to himself, imagining it brought a smile to his face. It was a shame he wouldn't get to see it. He never liked the thought of getting involved with people from the outside. He wouldn't be with her either.

He put away the vomit in the bathroom trashcan and wrapped the bag up. He walked from the toilet to the front door of the room. Regan laid there patiently waiting for his answer. 

"No I'm not mad at you," Vixen chuckled, "I'm rather concerned." He had already walked back to the bathroom to wash his hands.

"Concerned?" Regan repeated like she hadn't heard him due to the distance.

"Hm," Vixen muttered. He looked up into the mirror. "Concern."

He picked up a towel that hung on the hanger behind him and ran the smallest towel under cold water. 

Regan laid in silence for a moment, contemplating what the stranger had said. 'Concern?' She was well aware of what she was. She was well aware of what she did, she was a murderer. A murderer deserved no concern. 

"Why would you be concerned about me?" Regan asked, her head cocked to the side.

Vixen looked back at her. "Why wouldn't I be?" he smiled. 'My job depends on it too.'

He walked over to her and placed the cold towel on her head. 

"Ah!" Regan jumped, her body twitching. "C-cold…" her face snapped to Vixen's and even though he couldn't see her, he could almost imagine what her face looked like. 

He stifled a giggle. 

"I-I asked for w-warmth," Regan stuttered as the cold ran through her body in waves of chills. 

"You felt a bit feverish," Vixen replied blankly. They laid in silence for a second as he observed her. "I'm going to touch you."

Regan flinched. "Touch?"

"Yes, touch," Vixen repeated, "it will be very brief."

Regan's body tensed up. She couldn't move her body that much so she was already in a vulnerable state. She stayed still for a moment while she thought about it. 

"Sure," Regan nodded. She wasn't sure who it was or how he knew her but there was something about him that compelled her to trust him. She could be completely wrong too, but she wanted to see. She had enough trust for that. 

Vixen nodded, his hand immediately lifting up and moving towards Regan's body. It hovered over her chest for a moment, giving the suspense he knew was stifling Regan. Then his land dove down into hers, his fingers interlocking with hers. 

Her skin was frigid to the touch.

Regan flinched, her body tensing up for a moment. Overwhelming amounts of heat came from the point in which their bodies connected. They washed over her in flashes, pushing out her cold shivers. She eased back into her bed. He was warm.

Vixen immediately took the towel off her head and was about to stand up when Regan tightened her grip on his hand. She didn't want to let go. Vixen looked down at her for a second. He shook her hand off. 

Regan sunk deeper into her bed, her hand hitting the bed limply. Cold overwhelmed her again. 

Slowly, Vixen wiped her face with the cool towel and walked to the bathroom to squeeze the water out of the towel, then hung the towel on the railing on the wall. 

"What are you doing now?" Regan asked, her lips quivering slightly. 

"Getting you something different you to wear," Vixen replied. His voice a deep monotone, it held no emotion and was cold to the ears,

Regan shivered. "Getting me something to wear?" Regan turned to the stranger's voice. "Why?"

"Your clothes are soiled. You threw up on them," Vixen blankly replied. 

Regan nodded her head in agreement despite the fact that her senses seemed dull so she couldn't smell the vomit on her. She sat there in silence while the stranger flipped through her wardrobe. The thought hit her right after.

"Wait… doesn't that mean I'm going to have to get undressed in front of you?" Regan exclaimed. She couldn't even move her arms yet. He wasn't just going to be in the room while she undressed-

"I'll be assisting you," Vixen completed her stream of thought. 

Regan could feel the panic seeping into her mind. She didn't know about allowing a male to assist her in getting dressed.

Vixen could feel her hesitancy. "Don't worry, I have no desire to do anything with you. You'll be fine, you can tell from earlier."

Regan thought back to the moments before. It was true that he had only held her hand but she couldn't ensure that he wouldn't do anything to her. Once was enough, but twice… her trust wavered. 

Vixen pulled out a thick sweater from the bottom of her wardrobe. He had placed it there for her and judging by the fact that the spot it was in seemed untouched, she hadn't looked at it yet. Vixen walked up to the side of Regan's bed looking down at her below him. 

"You ready?" Vixen asked. 

Regan paused for a moment before nodding her head. She would trust again.

"Ok. I'm going to touch you again."