The answers to both questions are "I don't sleep very much," and "Rushed, but good progress on all of his patients." Bucky doesn't mind sharing that much with her because it isn't specifics and he certainly doesn't mind sharing specifics about himself.
She has very little in the way of things to carry but after he opens the car door for him, he makes a fuss about carrying her things inside. "If you end up wanting to stay longer, I can drive to your place and pick up what you might want or need."
She would normally be huffy about doing things herself, but she finds that it's... nice, to have this. So she's left just holding her sketchpad, the rest of her things in his strong, capable hands.
She tries not to think too much about wanting to stay longer. Frankly, she already does. So "Thank you," is all she says to that, accompanied by a soft, shy smile. And it doesn't go away, only grows more embarrassed, once they're inside and he settles her in her room.
The spare bedroom that's now hers is big and fancy. She sets her sketchpad down on the nightstand with care, then hovers uncertainly in the middle of the room. She doesn't want to just set herself down on the bed, feeling like she'd soil the sheets. Maybe after a bath.
"Do you think I would have gone through the trouble to get you set up here if I didn't want you here? Yes, I want you here," Bucky says. "Stop worrying about it. Whenever you feel like going home, if you do, let me know and I'll drive you there. Until then, stay here with me and rest up. Don't worry about money or food or anything but getting better."
He's serious about that even if his intentions aren't pure.
"Is there anything you need or want right now? I can get it for you. I don't want you lifting a finger until your lungs are better."
"Okay." Well, that's a lie, and he deserves better for being so nice to her, so she amends, "I'll try not to worry." It'll be hard, since she's worried about money and work for so long, but maybe he has some means to distract her.
She rakes a hand self-consciously through her hair. "I think I gotta clean up before I get in there," she answers with a knowing tilt of her head toward the bed. "I know you work at the hospital, but I've been in there for weeks. I smell like antiseptic."
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no subject
She has very little in the way of things to carry but after he opens the car door for him, he makes a fuss about carrying her things inside. "If you end up wanting to stay longer, I can drive to your place and pick up what you might want or need."
no subject
She tries not to think too much about wanting to stay longer. Frankly, she already does. So "Thank you," is all she says to that, accompanied by a soft, shy smile. And it doesn't go away, only grows more embarrassed, once they're inside and he settles her in her room.
The spare bedroom that's now hers is big and fancy. She sets her sketchpad down on the nightstand with care, then hovers uncertainly in the middle of the room. She doesn't want to just set herself down on the bed, feeling like she'd soil the sheets. Maybe after a bath.
"Are you really sure you want me here?"
no subject
He's serious about that even if his intentions aren't pure.
"Is there anything you need or want right now? I can get it for you. I don't want you lifting a finger until your lungs are better."
no subject
She rakes a hand self-consciously through her hair. "I think I gotta clean up before I get in there," she answers with a knowing tilt of her head toward the bed. "I know you work at the hospital, but I've been in there for weeks. I smell like antiseptic."