Victor shifted; he wasn’t used to this kind of expression, or really he wasn’t used to talking about his childhood years at all. The water traveled through his hair and down his cheeks like small streams as he smiled down at her, his hands resting on her hips. “You’re incredible, you know that?” He punctuated his statement with a quick kiss before turning so that he could get some shampoo and start washing his hair.
Summer ducked her head at the compliment. “This is just what I do,” she told him, backing up a little to be out of range of stray soap. “It’s not really all that special.” It never felt special to her. Sometimes it felt like a weight, always listening and never heard. Really, all most people needed was a listening ear and someone to honestly believe in and care for them.
In the end, she’d learned, mostly that was all she could do; people had to heal themselves. They had to choose on their own to forget, forgive, remember, release — whatever was needed to be at peace with whatever had happened. It was never /easy/. But it was always /possible/, if you didn’t fully give up. Some days, all you could do was hold on to the ground you’d won.
Summer leaned against the shower wall and just watched Victor, as she so rarely got to do.
“Well this,” he gestured to himself and all around him, “isn’t something most people can do and I appreciate it.” Victor smiled a big grin as he lathered the shampoo into his hair then shook his head much like a dog would sending little clouds of shampoo through the air. He laughed then went back under the water to rinse his hair and begin washing the rest of himself. Victor looked back at her with a smirk, “You enjoying the show Summer?”
She blushed horribly and poked him. “Shut up, you dork. Or I’ll make you wash /me/.”