[ the careful, gentle pressure of his arms is still enough to hurt, but alisaie has become so accustomed to pain that it does not matter. it's a worthwhile sacrifice to feel his arms around her again, to be able to be so close to him that they become a messy, perfect tangle. it makes her feel strong, loved, cared for. it brings her peace.
but gods she's so tired, tucked up against him like this, the scent of his skin enough to drown out the smell of blood, the warmth of his body enough to chase away the ache in her bones. she is content, happy, and more importantly she is no longer afraid, at least not in any way that can truly touch her. even though she has her misgivings, his endless faith in her ability to overcome this gives her some small modicum of hope.
her head is growing cloudy, like a the curtain drawn before the drama of their evening, and alisaie's eyelids feel heavy as lead. satisfied as she is, comfortable as his arms are, it's growing more and more difficult to keep her eyes open. a deep breath, and her grasp on him begins to slacken a little, her nose bumping his, her words little more than a whisper. ]
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but gods she's so tired, tucked up against him like this, the scent of his skin enough to drown out the smell of blood, the warmth of his body enough to chase away the ache in her bones. she is content, happy, and more importantly she is no longer afraid, at least not in any way that can truly touch her. even though she has her misgivings, his endless faith in her ability to overcome this gives her some small modicum of hope.
her head is growing cloudy, like a the curtain drawn before the drama of their evening, and alisaie's eyelids feel heavy as lead. satisfied as she is, comfortable as his arms are, it's growing more and more difficult to keep her eyes open. a deep breath, and her grasp on him begins to slacken a little, her nose bumping his, her words little more than a whisper. ]
I'm.. so tired.