"Shh," Emma murmured, rubbing the curve of Veronique's spine reassuringly between her shoulder blades. The surgery had been a success, now came the post-op recovery. "How do you feel?"
She groaned into the puke bag as a wave of nausea washed over her. "Like shit."
"Alright, let's get you to your room."
At fourteen feet long and with a pearlescent sheen to them, the wings that were now folded against Veronique's back twitched and shifted as Emma pushed the wheelchair down the corridor with her sitting backwards in it.
"I didn't think they were serious about the size."
"They're beautiful," Emma murmured, reaching out with one hand to stroke one of her secondaries. As she ran her fingers over the feather, Veronique groaned. "I'm sorry! Did it hurt?"
"No, it's okay . . . it felt as if you were touching me elsewhere."
Emma swallowed. Elsewhere? That was a certainly interesting revelation. The doctors had said they were taking some extra nerves from Veronique's legs in order to give her full control.
"A good feeling or a bad feeling?"
Veronique gestured and mumbled something about feels like you're fucking me before she curled into the chair further. "Once we're home, do it again?"