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She’s shaking when he finds her, her mind a fog of fear and indecisive motions. She drops the ukelele, crouching with her hands over her head and lets out what Art can only think of as an animalistic sound of fear.
She’s silent when her body finally shuts down completely, leaving her entirely at his mercy. He could, he thinks, kill her. Instead he carries her to her bedroom, setting her down as gently as possible, tucking her in and waiting.
When she wakes he presents her a flower, just one, then strokes her cheek dry of tears, his eyes softer as he extends a small folded card. ‘Sorry…’
Then a second is held out ‘Are you sick?’. She nods, just once, small, meek, tired. His eyes seem to well with emotion then and he strokes her cheek again, leaning to kiss her softly.
In the time following the brain fog will swallow much of her memories, leaving only fleeting moments. Soft kisses, tender care and a Clown who leaves her alive.