( turns out, it is easy to not force conversation when she is not sure yet what to say. there's a mire in her head — promises made to make their path together, begging him to not go where she could not follow yet in the end she was the one that had strayed too far. there's a lot caged in her chest, along with the cold twinge that digs a little deeper each time she sees reminder of his injuries. she knows that twist all too well, a fear of mortality that is quite far from unknown.
she hates the reminder, that no matter how he tries (how either of them try), there is a path he will walk that she cannot reach.
instead, she can offer what she had so horribly failed in when he'd needed it most. to be there, even in useless silence until he is ready. sometimes she reads, sometimes she sifts through paperwork, sometimes her thoughts are just as distant as his even if her body is in arm's reach. today she's half entertaining a book when he reaches for her, and the heartbeat under her fingertips is comforting even though she's not supposed to be the one that needs comfort. ) Hmm? ( it's not quite a question, the murmur, yet she can tell there's something he wants to say. )
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she hates the reminder, that no matter how he tries (how either of them try), there is a path he will walk that she cannot reach.
instead, she can offer what she had so horribly failed in when he'd needed it most. to be there, even in useless silence until he is ready. sometimes she reads, sometimes she sifts through paperwork, sometimes her thoughts are just as distant as his even if her body is in arm's reach. today she's half entertaining a book when he reaches for her, and the heartbeat under her fingertips is comforting even though she's not supposed to be the one that needs comfort. ) Hmm? ( it's not quite a question, the murmur, yet she can tell there's something he wants to say. )