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 stopped short, standing very still, at the question. Her mouth opened, as if she would say something if she could, and then closed. Then she jerked the hood over her head again. hiding from him. How could she do this? She needed /everything/, and she hated it. Her hands shook a little as she wrote, ‘I can’t repay you for anything. I have nothing.’
Derek was confused at her reaction to the question, wondering what he’d said wrong. When he read the reply though, he shrugged. “That isn’t a question. Don’t concern yourself with that at a time like this. Now, what do we need to do?”
She held the pen over the paper for a long time, wrestling with herself. She’d /asked/ for help. He was offering help. There was nothing wrong with accepting it. It was just so hard to persuade herself of that. Her stomach growled audibly, even as she started to write, and her hand shook a little. ‘if I could borrow some clothes, maybe I could have a shower?’