Hurt/Comfort with Soldier & Petrova

Here is the drawing from the livestream tonight~!

I put together a little context for the drawing~ This was mostly meant as a description of the scene because I went overboard? 🙇💕 I apologize for the rough condition of the prose- I usually just write very basic dialogue, so I'm a bit rusty. HOWEVER, doomcore lesbian romance has made me brave! So I wanted to share their opera date concept:

(Sickness/ableist talk/vomit/panic attacks/ptsd)

The Soldier is assigned to accompany Petrova to the opera. The socialite is bored by the evening’s agenda- she has seen this one before- but the soldier has not. The escort is creepily watchful when attending these new experiences, as usual.

They take their seats in the opulent theater and the warm lights on the ceiling dim down to needlepoints. Light and shadow flashes on their faces as the performance begins. The Soldier follows along with rapt attention as a soprano steps out onto the stage. Her voice rings out so loud and clear that it seizes The Soldier from her insides. She gulps in a panicked breath of air and pulls at the tie of her formal uniform. The sharp cry of the aria bears down on her and next time she tries to breathe in, the air catches all the way up her throat.

Petrova notices immediately, brow furrowed, “What’s wrong with you?” she hisses quietly. The Soldier’s skin is blistered over with sweat, she looks like she’s going to be ill-

They both stand from the row, disrupting the routine of the evening. A few of the society’s upper echelon make scandalized comments about the pair in their wake.. The General visible bristles at the sight his daughter is making.

Petrova hurries The Soldier to the Ladies’ Room before she embarrasses them both further.

In the bathroom, The Soldier doesn’t make it into the stall before vomiting into her dress gloves. She coughs up into the basin while Petrova fits a chair under the room’s door handle to keep interlopers out. “For god’s sake-!” She sighs loudly.

The Soldier lays back against the cold tile- Petrova has placed her dress jacket under her head. After a moment of reprieve, it seems as though the nausea has subsided.

The socialite dabs her solder's forehead with a hand towel, tsking at the nuisance of it all to get such a delicate sentinel. “Well,” she leans back and slips out a cigarette from her tin, “At least we know you don’t like opera.”

“No,” The Soldier strains to look at her from where she lies, “Why do you say that?”

“Because it made you sick,” Petrova inhales a smooth mouthful of smoke.

“That’s not true- it’s the opposite” She closes her eyes, “I enjoyed it.”

Ah~! Thank you all so much, as always!🙇💕🥲 And thank you to all who came to the livestream tonight- it was great to see familiar faces!

Thank you!