"Take showers if you want," 'Chelle calls through the door, and then leaves them be.

Nova hesitantly reaches out to turn the shower on, fiddling with the controls.

(He isn't allowed warm water, he knows that. Knowsknowsknows.)

Zevran watches the door, one hand in his pocket, fingering the knife, when he remembers something. Something Nova told him a long time ago.

I don't get warm water. I don't deserve it.

"Nova-" he says, sharply, turning and shoving his hand under the stream. It's freezing. "No. No, you'll get sick." He turns the hot water on, not having the same guilty conscience about it as Nova, and waits until the water is pleasantly warm. "There." 

"B-but- I- I don't wanna get in trouble. I- please don't make me get in trouble-"

The blood in Zevran's veins freezes. He can remember that night, that night, so clearly in his mind and it both makes him want to kill and cry. He knows what Nova fears so dreadfully. It makes him sick that he let it happen for so long.

"There is nothing, nothing, they can do that I won't protect you from." Lies. "I would happily set myself on fire to keep you warm. But we have a shower for that instead. Please, Nova. I will keep you safe. They won't- you won't be in trouble. I will make sure of it."

He keeps himself distant. Ensures he doesn't follow his foolish heart and hold Nova, or press a careful kiss to his forehead, or to his fingers. Nova will forever have his heart but Zevran would die before he thought that meant he had his body.

...Nova's still reluctant, but- But-

But Zev has protected him, whenever he could, and- And he hasn't lied to him. He wouldn't.

He's shaking but-

But he nods cautiously, and starts to undress.

Zev is quick to turn away, to offer Nova privacy.

Something he knows Nova never got a lot of.

...the warm water doesn't hurt against his skin. It feels...almost pleasant.

Still, he cleans himself quickly, habit and the knowledge that Zev needs to as well, and he doesn't know how long they'll have-

He wraps himself in a sinfully soft towel when he gets out.

"I- your turn," he says quietly.

Zevran doesn't turn, wanting to give Nova time to change. "I'm okay. Get changed, then we'll see where we're sleeping."

"Zev, please."

"I-" God, he sounds broken. "I can't...I can't let my guard down. I have to keep you safe."

"Please, Zev. I- It's five minutes. 'Ll be fine. Door's locked, right?"

It was. And he wouldn't be long. Being warm would be good. But-

Who was he trying to kid? He couldn't deny Nova anything. 

He closed his eyes, letting Nova have the privacy. He pulled out his knife and gave it to him. "If you need it."

He takes it cautiously, carefully, and nods, realises Zev can't see him, and gives vocal confirmation.

He quickly pulls on the still-warm clothes that they'd been given - the idea of putting his wet clothes on being horrid enough to make him do it without a thought.

Zevran undresses and showers as quickly as he can, though the warm water was very welcome after the freezing rain and the on-off temperature of the shelter's showers. 

He steps out, towelling quickly and then dressing in the dry clothes. The fit would be better, if he had kept the broadness the cult had trained into him, but the few months living on the streets had made him thinner than he realised. 

He takes the knife back from Nova once he's done. "Okay?"

He nods. "You?"

"Well. Been a while since I was this warm," he says, smiling at Nova.

That gets him a small smile in return. "I- don't remember being this warm."

Zevran gets a cold stab of guilt to his stomach. His fault. "I'll fix that. Next place we find will have hot water constantly." He tries another smile but he can feel how watery it is. 

He unlocks the door. He pauses. He knows Nova was promised food, but for a moment he was almost certain running was a good option. It's hard to squash the urge to gather Nova in his arms and barrel back out into the rain. But-

But if these people can help care for Nova, even for a little while, isn't it worth it? 

"Let's see what kind of food they'll give us."

Nova nods, a little cautiously.

If they look to their right as they leave the bathroom they'll see the kitchen, and Aaren putting two bowls of soup down at the opposite end of the table from where 'Chelle's sat, a mug at her elbow, and a half eaten sandwich on a plate next to her, holding a hand of cards.

Aaren smiles warmly. "Lentil soup, as promised. Good warming food." (And not too harsh on stomachs not used to regular food, he doesn't say.)

Zev nods. He turns to Nova. "That okay?"

-Nova isn't sure how to answer that, so he just nods.

"Hey, gimme those wet clothes, I'll get them cleaned up and dried for the two of you, huh?"

Zev hands them over. He already transferred their money (happily stolen from the would-be rapist) and his knife to his new pockets, and even if they kept the clothes it wouldn't matter. Zevran's was the uniform he was made to wear and if he was honest, he was grateful to see it go.

He coaxed Nova to a seat. "You need to eat. You've been trembling all day," he says quietly, hoping that only Nova can hear.