[It's fairly obvious which is hers, back along the far wall. Neatly kept, there's a couple stacks of library books on her night stand, one left open; a line of candles and a rose quartz sit beside them. Her bed is somewhat messily made, and just the sight of it makes her exhale, some of the frantic adrenaline leaving her.
There's a Scooby procedure for what to do after things like this, and first things come first.] We should clean ourselves up. I don't want to stay like this. [In these clothes with blood all over her, and he probably wants to actually put something on, she figures. But Willow hesitates, turning to face him, hand still clasped with his.]
If we do that... can-- can you come back afterwards?
[She wishes they could just sit with each other and talk, and process what had happened and was about to happen, but the mundanities of life interfered like they always did. While Willow could wave her hand and fix everything with magic, clothes and all, she doesn't want to use any more magic right now. She barely wants to consider it.]
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There's a Scooby procedure for what to do after things like this, and first things come first.] We should clean ourselves up. I don't want to stay like this. [In these clothes with blood all over her, and he probably wants to actually put something on, she figures. But Willow hesitates, turning to face him, hand still clasped with his.]
If we do that... can-- can you come back afterwards?
[She wishes they could just sit with each other and talk, and process what had happened and was about to happen, but the mundanities of life interfered like they always did. While Willow could wave her hand and fix everything with magic, clothes and all, she doesn't want to use any more magic right now. She barely wants to consider it.]