Derek was a little startled at the sudden hug and rush of emotion, though he caught her and tentatively patted her back soothingly, still a tad bit stunned at the force of her gratitude but glad he could help and make someone feel so thankful.
Accepting the pile of fabrics, she slipped into the bathroom. She luxuriated in the shower; in the knowledge that she didn’t have to hurry, or be on her guard. She found some shampoo and washed her hair, scrubbed every bit of her twice, even rubbed at her teeth with a finger. That last was a bit inadequate, but she felt better afterwards.
Her hands remembered how to wind up her long hair in towels, and she pulled on the clothes. She didn’t exactly recognise the girl in the mirror, but she knew that bones shouldn’t be that visible, and there was just something about her own face that seemed wrong. Popping back out, she presented herself before him to be inspected. Clean, fed, and clothed, she wondered what was supposed to happen now.
Derek had been laying back on his bed with a book, reading as she showered, going over what else she may need. When she walked out, she looked much better, clean and still small, but that’s just malnutrition. “If you want to brush your teeth you can use my toothpaste and there should be a new brush in the drawer under the sink, nothing fancy but it’ll do the job,” he offered as he sat up. “I don’t have a hair brush but if you wanted you could try to tackle that with a comb later.”
She hunched her shoulders up a little. It felt strange to be walking around in slightly-too-large clothing, the weight of her damp hair heavy on her head. Coming over to the edge of the bed, she picked up his book, reading the cover and then the back of it. That was a weight that felt right, the smoothness of the pages and gloss of the cover under her fingertips. Regretfully, she put it back down.