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.
She padded in, pausing in the doorway before going round the whole room, peering at everything on the counters and all the cabinets. She lingered before the refrigerator, inspecting what was on it. Then she started to open /everything/. She didn’t leave anything open, but she looked at it all.
It was a strange feeling — she knew the names of almost everything she found, but there was no personal context to any of it. She couldn’t remember tastes, wasn’t sure what she liked or didn’t like, but she knew that macaroni usually had cheese sauce and carrots could be eaten raw or cooked. After a little while she was reduced to staring at the boxes and cans blindly, frowning and feeling twisted up wrong.
Derek followed her into the kitchen, Isaac behind him, and they watched as she looked through literally everything. At one point when she had a pause, Derek, with his arms crossed and leaning against a counter, said “You are so not going through my room like that,” offhand and contemplating.
He saw her as she just scanned things eventually, not seeming to take anything in and her body rolling off ‘discomfort.’ He stepped over and spoke softly, Isaac sitting back in the living room by now. “Hey,” he began, gently turning her to face him. “How about I make something. Then you can try it and see how you like it, yeah?”
Helplessly, overwhelmed, she nodded. Perhaps because she’d been homeless, reduced to begging, she hadn’t realised how much of herself she’d lost. How many gaps there were. Now she knew, and she didn’t know how to fill them. Reaching up, she put her hand over his and squeezed, before padding back to the living room. She sat next to Isaac, close but not touching.