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synthneon2021-11-19 12:58 am
hobbitholmes) wrote in synthneon2021-11-19 12:58 am
Entry tags:
FF PSL | β for those we can yet save. β
AFTERGLOW
β hear, feel think. β
βοΈ HEAVENSWARD
β
Ever Heavensward (3.0)
β Ishgard Meetings, Part 2
β As Goes Light, So Goes Darkness (3.1)
β Unfleeting Emotions
β The Gears of Change (3.2)
β Heavy Hearts, Part 2
β Revenge of the Horde (3.3)
β Starlight Festival (Alkaid)
β Starlight Festival (KP)
β Ishgard Meetings, Part 2
β As Goes Light, So Goes Darkness (3.1)
β Unfleeting Emotions
β The Gears of Change (3.2)
β Heavy Hearts, Part 2
β Revenge of the Horde (3.3)
β Starlight Festival (Alkaid)
β Starlight Festival (KP)
π₯ STORMBLOOD
β
IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
cont. post-conference
[ Even if a part of her feels disappointed at not sharing her passions? Alkaid remains at Aymeric's side. She curls up beside him and eventually finds sleep after calming herself. Sleep itself is far from deep with the events that had transpired during the day. However, it is far better as it is him she shares the night with.
Some part of her senses he stirs within hours. Her ears twitch slightly, turning towards him. Eyes barely open as she lifts her head and turns entirely to look towards Aymeric. Something about the way his aether flows is what catches her attention and snaps her eyes open further. While she may not see as Y'shtola does, she can sense things by her training.
Alkaid sits up properly beside him, a hand reaching up to move the borrowed shirt back to her shoulder. She would not try to stir a sense of passion in him again given his last reaction. Instead, she gently rests a hand on his arm to call his attention. ]
Aymeric?
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On a more ordinary occasion, perhaps he would have been able to respond with all the fire and passion that he expects from himself, but it has been a trying day and a longing to just sleep beside her and finally take what rest they can was overwhelming everything else.
Eventually, sleep finds him, but even in slumber, he remains closely pressed against her side, perhaps unconsciously reaching out for comfort as he sleeps.
But several hours later, something disturbs his rest, an uncomfortable ache where a knife once was driven into him. On occasion, a dull pain resurfaces, and while he can mostly ignore the discomfort, at times, it is not so easily pushed aside and all he can do is ride out the waves and hope that they subside with time.
Now, he does not wish to disturb her rest, so even though he shifts just slightly, hoping that a change in position will lessen some of the ache, he tries his best to remain still.
With his eyes still closed, hoping to give the appearance of still being asleep, βhe tenses when he feels her move, despite his efforts to remain silent and still. He hopes that she will lie back down and resume the sleep he is sure she needs, but then he feels her hand rest on his arm and hears her quietly say his name.
Finally, his eyes slide open and he takes a moment to adjust to the darkness in the room. He says the first thing to come to mind: ]
If I woke you, I am sorry. There are still several hours until morning, so please, return to your rest.
[ He cannot have her worrying about him or cause her to lose sleep because of him. ]
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Then, she sits properly, gently motioning him to put his head in her lap. The fact her passions were not met is irrelevant in her mind. Perhaps it is for the best. She would not wish him to look back at an encounter with her in a negative light. Out of wedlock, with their standing, and with the parentage he has? She should have though more and acted less. ]
Here, put your head down, and tell me what causes your discomfort.
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But it does not take him long to see that she will not be rebuffed, and so he does as bidden, shifting his position until his head is pillowed in her lap. He manages to move as gracefully as he can, but the twinge in his side causes his expression to shift into a brief grimace, which he sincerely hopes has escaped her notice. ]
'tis nothing, of course. Merely an old injury making itself known once more. The discomfort will pass in no time at all.
[ Never mind that it isn't an old wound at all, and they both know how recent it is. But the last thing he wishes is for her to fret over something that is ultimately minor and will resolve itself with time. ]
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The end of her tail flicks happily as he moves into her lap. Then, a pause as she does indeed notice the expression that takes his face. Her eyes travel down his body until she finds where the strain he faces comes from. Her ears drop slightly. ]
Ah, I should have known. [ Her fingers walk down his arm and then gently slide over the healed scar.
There is no doubt in her mind that the healers did their utmost and repaired the wound. However, such a deep wound would indeed cause aches and pains now and again--especially in the cold. A gentle white tinted green light forms at her finger tips. It is meant to be comforting more than anything.
Her other hand begins to stroke his hair in a similar fashion to how he had hers earlier in the night. ]
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Knowing that apprehension must show on his face, part of him wishes he could turn from her, hiding his eyes lest she see it for herself. But she has a way of bringing him back when he attempts to retreat inwardly, so he knows it would not last for long. ]
Again, I must ask that you not worry on my account. [ But his words are contradicted just slightly by the prolonged exhale that escapes him as the light flows from her fingertips and covers the healed wound.
It is almost as though the discomfort is seeping away and being replaced by something warm and comforting. And her hand stroking his hair only adds to the comfort that he feels. The injury might throb and ache but the dull pain is gradually lessening under her ministrations. ]
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Hmm. [ A small smile is given to him. ] Worrying is apart of loving someone, is it not? As is caring for then when they are in need of comfort.
[ The fingers at his scar begin to gently move in small circles. The purpose is so that the fraction of aether she expends will travel along the ache and as deep into the muscles as needed. The strands of his hair in her other set of fingers curl around them. She's never thought once of touching his hair... and finds it to be rather soft. ]
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Hmm? [ He finds it an interesting development that the more time he spends with her, the more he finds himself expressing himself a little more freely. Oh, he is still very much the same person who presents a very guarded persona, but the shell he has kept around himself for so long is beginning to break open a little bit at a time. ]
Of course, of course. [ He shifts just slightly so that he might further nestle himself into her lap and the comfort she offers. He is not accustomed to being cared for like this, because the last time that anyone offered this sort of care was when his mother still lived, but he finds that he likes it every bit as much as he must have when he was younger. ] The only thing that gives me pause is the notion that you will tire of it, and in time come to resent me.
[ It seems to him that one of his shortcomings is his tendency to take so many things to heart, and when he only had himself to worry about, he did not have to fear that he was being too much of a bother to anyone but himself. Now, with her by his side, he fears that she might grow tired of the role of comforter. She has not claimed that as her role in so many words, but her actions and other things she has said seem proof enough.
He falls silent once more, putting a halt to his musings as the aether seeps deeper into the muscles around the once-injured area and a sweeping sense of relief comes over him. The feel of her fingers in his hair brings a small smile to his face, and for just a moment, it feels as though the years have fallen away and he is once more the young man seeking comfort from his mother.
Of course, Alkaid is not his mother, but rather the one he loves, and so all of this is similar but different at the same time. Perhaps the path his thoughts have taken makes little sense, so he keeps them to himself for the moment, choosing instead to simply relax beside her.
But he does have one question for her, brought about by her ministrations. ]
Did your mother offer you comfort like this when you were younger? [ He wonders where she learned how to be so attentive, or if it was an innate skill that she had all along. That would not surprise him, if that turned out to be the case. ]
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[ Anything that might lighten the atmosphere they are in should be done. She believes that it is what he needs more than anything. A small fraction of time where he might lighten his burdens in order to see them more clearly.
She shakes her head. ]
I've no reason to resent you for being a person, Aymeric. It seems to me that you haven't had enough comfort in your life. Which means you have quite a bit to catch up on.
[ She has always been a healer and a comforter; one who might take on burdens outside herself to help another. Her sister has as well. There seems to just be people in this world who would do that to the surprise of others around them. ]
She would if nightmares occurred or if something else frightened me. My mother is not one to have the art of conjury. [ Her head tilts to the side with a frown. ] Anything that might have happened as a result of watching over or adventuring with Thisru would be my own fault, thus I was expected to care for myself. It was the... agreement my father and I made to keep tensions between our mothers low. He disliked their arguing more than the pair of us did. So, Thisru and I learned to care for ourselves and one another out on our small little adventures to the cave.
You would have to ask her how her mother thought of it all. I stopped attempting to speak with her or bridge gaps when I was truly nothing more than my mother's child to her.
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Not typically, no. Put pen to paper and express my thoughts that way? Perhaps. Of course, I have had many discussions with Lucia about what our next moves ought to be, but I suppose that is somewhat different than thinking aloud.
[ And in the interest of attempting to lighten the mood, he says: ] Perhaps I feared being the recipient of curious glances if anyone should come across me speaking my thoughts aloud. As you know, I do have a certain dignified image that must remain intact. [ And while it has been many years since he displayed anything akin to childlike playfulness, he suddenly feels struck by the sudden urge to do something not so contained and rigid. Carefully, so as not to dislodge her with his sudden movement, he slowly moves into a sitting position, being also mindful not to move too quickly and undo the comfort she's giving him, and sticks his nose into the air, clearly a snobbish gesture.
He holds that pose for a moment or two, hoping to give her a moment of levity in return. Eventually, he resumes his position with his head in her lap, because he would be lying if he said he was not enjoying this. ]
I see. It seems to me, then, that the both of you had to grow up somewhat quicker than most, if you had to learn to care for yourselves from an early age.
[ It also seems to him that that is one thing that makes them similar, but he does not wish to be too forward by drawing that conclusion. ]
Now that you mention it, I would like to speak more with your sister and become better acquainted with her.
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No wonder so many thought you so serious all the time. Sharing is, in this instance, most certainly caring, my ser knight. [ Alkaid smiles at him and raises her hand from his hair in order to tap his nose.
Then, she pauses as he moves and sticks his nose in the air. It takes the briefest of moments, but then she cannot help but laugh at the display. She had certainly never thought to see him act in such a way. Yet, she cannot help but feel it would be good for him in the long run. Ishgard and her people are in need of levity and smiles. ]
We were not without home at least. We simply learned that if we were to gain what we wished from life? Our days would lie beyond the confines of our clan. I think we were both ready to make the choice, even if it was a hard one to make at the time.
[ The smile on her face turns to a softer one. ] Should I arrange something?
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Well, I shall endeavor to be more forthcoming with my thoughts, and it hardly needs saying that I value your counsel very much. [ He smiles when she taps his nose, marveling again at how easily she can get him to relax and momentarily forget about all the responsibilities that require his attention.
As for his silly action, it feels both foreign and yet amusing to him even as he carries it out. Surely there are those who would disapprove, but they are not in this room, and thus he is not thinking about them. ]
It seems to me that the pair of you are in possession of more wisdom than most. It is far too easy to choose the easier option, even if it might not lead to a desirable outcome, than to take the harder path and pursue what it is you want.
[ Simply put, his admiration for both sisters has only grown, and continues to do so. ] Perhaps you could ask K'thisru if she would consent to another dinner with the three of us. And this time, if all goes well, there will be no unfortunate interruptions. [ Not that he would turn a blind eye to any emergent situations, but he would like a second attempt. ]
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We have traveled the world and seen more of its people than most. Knowledge is something gained from it, although I'm not sure if you would call it wisdom. [ Her fingers go through his hair once more. ] I'm certain she'd love to have dinner with you. We never had the chance to find our initial one.
Once we've defeated Nidhogg and saved Estinien.
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Oh, but I would certainly call it that. I am quite sure that your horizons have been broadened by your travels and because of the people you have met. Speaking for myself, I am not nearly as knowledgeable nor am I wise, given how little I have left Ishgard to travel beyond the borders.
[ In fact, he would go as far as to say he is rather sheltered, all things considered. ]
Then consider the invitation formally extended. It may be some time before it can become reality, but I assure you both that I will do my best to ensure that it does.
[ And having said that, he leans in once more so that he might give her another kiss, pouring as much of his affections into it as he can. ]
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I will officially accept your formal invitation, Ser Aymeric. [ The shy smile widens as he leans in to kiss her. She returns it with as much love, making sure not to allow herself to be carried away. A hand settles under his chin as she finally pulls away. ] Does it still ache?
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[ When she pulls away, as always, he feels as though he misses her presence even though she is still right there with him, but he gives no sign of it. And although the ache has lessened somewhat, he can still feel the usual tension in the area that seems to be his constant companion. Still, it can be ignored, and it could absolutely be worse. ]
The worst seems to have passed, thanks to your ministrations. [ Then, his smile widens. ] I thank you for your care and consideration. [ And love, he wishes to add, but keeps that to himself. Surely she knows how much affection he has for her by now. ]
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[ Her head cants to the side at what he says and his smile. Hm. The worst of it, yet perhaps, not enough for him to find reprieve for sleep. As such, she leans back against the headboard and motions for him to lie down beside her again. The aching side up, of course. If anything, she might yet ease him into a form of slumber. ]
Well, my care and consideration is given out of adoration and need. I would have your aches gone away so you might actually sleep, Aymeric.
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[ He knows he may not ever truly be comfortable, but it seems as though he may at least experience some relief so long as she is present. He does not hesitate to move positions once again so that he might resume his earlier pose of lying down next to her. The movement only slightly jars the once injured spot, but he does his best to keep any signs of discomfort from showing. More than likely, she knows that he is doing his best to feign a neutral expression, but he would rather not worry her too much. ]
And I sincerely thank you for it. [ He shakes his head just the smallest amount, not wanting to disagree with her too much, but he also imagines that sleep will escape him the remainder of this night. ] There cannot be too many hours remaining until morning, at such time our duties must resume. But perhaps if you sleep, I might manage to take a few hours of rest. [ Or lying awake beside her, although he is certain that will hardly be acceptable to her. ]
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[ Her head tilts to hover over him, the longer bits of her darker hair falling over her shoulders. There is a shake of her head. ]
Or, we both find rest. I wouldn't be able to rest as well knowing that you were still in some form of pain while I sleep.
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That seems like a wish that cannot be fulfilled, but he cannot help but long for it regardless. ]
Of course. Please, continue. [ He reasons that nearly everything worth having has a consequence to it in some form, and if her comfort comes with initial discomfort, then that is just how it is. It can hardly be worse than going about his day with no relief at all, he reasons. ]
Well, I can hardly pretend that resting beside you is something I do not want. I- Well, I wish that we could have such moments as this again. [ But duty remains ever present as they both know. ] I would take on an even greater amount of discomfort if I could remain by your side for another night. [ Or several nights, as he so fervently wishes. ]
It would be more than worth it to me.
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Alkaid lays herself against him, her head resting against his shoulder. Her arm drapes over him as her hand rests on his healed injury. After a moment her eyes close and the tips of her fingers again light with a green light. They slowly move up, then down, to the side, then the other. She lets the aether be directed to where it might flow to where the muscles and tendons are still clenched and twisted. They healed the wound and damaged the repair... but she can certainly tell the difference in approach between the Gridanian Conjurers and the healers in Ishgard. ]
It's a painful ache, isn't it? [ Her voice is gentle to the point it hovers over being a whisper. An odd mixture of speaking to herself, to him, and perhaps to his aether as well.
The tips of her fingers glide to a certain point before stopping. Then, they press against the fabric of the shirt he wears to push into his skin. She can feel the tension knotted in this area, and her eyebrows knit together even as her eyes remain closed. ] It's a deep ache... right here... all of it centered in this one place...
[ Her mint colored eyes open halfway as she believes she knows why. It speaks of injury--perhaps the place the blade pierced through his armor and into his person. It would explain why the tension is so deep. The injury of course healed and was mended. But, she would not say it was done of a way the body might be encouraged to heal. Rather, perhaps forced...
Aymeric speaks again and it pulls her mind from the thoughts of following his aether. She raises her eyes to him, keeping her hand and fingers pressed into the area of tension. How he can manage to make her heart feel as if it melts is something beyond her. A smile spreads on her face before she leans up to gently brush her lips across his. ]
Sharing your home with me is one thing; would you truly desire to share your room? [ She presses a kiss to his cheek then as she tries to keep his mind occupied. There is no doubt that the fingers pressed cause discomfort and intensify his aches. Yet, she aims to remove the source of it as much as possible. ] I would stay here night after night as long as you would allow me to.
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At first, he simply closes his eyes, expecting to feel the ache wash away as she goes about her work, but this time, it is a little different. She warned him that it would be, but he was not prepared for the sensation that comes.
The muscles and tendons that were damaged by the knife are fully healed, of course, but they still remain tense and pinched. And although he is aware that her ministrations will only help, he cannot stop the almost involuntary reaction to the sensations of her fingers pressed against him and the flows of aether doing their work.
His vision tunnels briefly, darkening around the edges, and for just a second, he is back on that street, lying on the ground with the Count de Fortemps kneeling beside him. One hand moves to grasp the once injured area, but Alkaid's hand is already there, and his hand brushes against hers. It is that contact with her that brings him back to the present.
When Ishgard's healers saw to the wound, their goal was repairing the damage and seeing him back on his feet as quickly as possible. And of course, they succeeded, and he has never had even one ill thought directed towards them. They did the best that they could, and he reasoned that any lingering effects were just something he would have to come to terms with.
Fortunately, the kiss that she has planted against his cheek provides him with a distraction, something else to focus on besides the aching in his side. He tries to keep his voice from sounding too strained, but he is certain she won't be so easily fooled. ]
Of course I would. [ He moves his hand, lightly closing his fingers around hers, not wanting to disrupt her as she works, but the reminder that she is there with him helps ground him. His words are more clipped than he means them to be, but he does his best to rectify that with what he says next. ] I have never had anyone with whom to share my possessions or my living quarters, and...
[ He pauses then to draw in and then let out a breath before he continues. ]
To share that which I have inherited with another can only be seen as a good change, and a blessing as well. [ He gives her a warm smile then, and he gently squeezes her hand. ] For as long as you wish to stay, consider this room- even this entire estate, at your disposal.
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She cannot undo the work of the healers, as much as her pride of a white mage wishes she could. All that she is capable of doing is untwisting the tension and ease the muscles so his natural aether will flow through the healed wound site once more. It will twist and turn again; knotting itself up and causing aches and pains. The cold climate and the stress that comes with his position will certainly see to it.
Her eyes drift to their hands as his fingers curl around his. She continues her work, fingers moving ever so slightly here and there, only to press against him once more. Her eyebrows continue to furrow as she can feel just how deep the wound is. They must have been in a panic and a hurry to heal him with the state of Ishgard and looming war once more with Nidhogg. The wound could have been fatal if but a fw more notches in a certain direction. ]
Then, I am honored to be the first.
[ She means every single word--even if she wonders if she might be the only one. No doubt that once Nidhogg's war is over and his attention can drift to other matters of his life he might find another. One that he could spend more of his life with, to raise a family with...
Alkaid closes her eyes once more to push the thought away for the moment. Her ears lower slightly as she briefly puts all her focus on the healed injury, allowing the aether to not only flow into the muscles more, but to learn of what his own needs. Her head tilts to the side, the pink edges brushing against him as she does. ]
This place--this is where the knife cut. [ Where they hurt him; tried to kill him. ] Here... and it didn't cut side-to-side... it went down, and further in...
[ Perhaps it is strange to him she might learn so much from merely directing and listening to the aether. Yet, that is exactly what conjurey as an art is. Listening, learning, moving, taking and giving. The base skills can only be known to help master white magic. Not that this requires the higher skills of that magick.
Her eyes remain closed as she leans in again to press a kiss to his forehead in apology. It would be easier if she could touch the scar directly, but she would not ask him to do such a thing. Instead, the edges of her first two fingers push against the scar quickly. Her other hand comes to rest at the top of his head, fingers combing through his hair to try and ease him as best as he can. ]
It wasn't aimed to scare or intimidate... it was aimed to kill... to take you away--[ from me, she manages to stop herself from saying. ]--they missed, failing to strike... and instead merely managed to cause such an injury. [ Her head tilts down to rest her forehead to his as her fingers move down slightly. ] So much pain... pain they couldn't take away, only cover in their haste... because they were scared that they might lose their Lord Commander... their leader...
[ She was scared too; horrified at the idea that she might lose him when he was not hers to lose. ]
You were scared too, deep down, where they couldn't hear... you still are... of so many things. They all bundle and twist and knot here... in this place. The one place where they could strike past your armor and hurt you... [ Her head tilts just enough to kiss his temple lightly. ] Tell me what frightens you most at this very moment, my love. Let it out, let it flow freely, so you might find reprieve of it.
[ Of course, in another state, she would of stopped herself short of so opening calling him such a thing. Yet, her mind is focused on the task of mending and comfort. As she listens to the injury and the disrupted aether, her heart is open as well. Anything he might ask would be answered freely without notice. ]
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It is a confusing blur of scenes that he dimly remembers, such as being carried from the street to the healers, interposed with her talking to him as she continues her ministrations. Wanting to dislodge those memories and focus on what is actually happening in the present, he shakes his head once, hoping to clear the fog swirling in his mind.
But she continues speaking, the flow of her words washing over him, and it seems as though his mind is determined to ensure he relives the moments following the attack. He cannot remember all of it with any sort of clarity, but one thing stands out to him as she continues with the stream of words. It is only in his mind, of course, but as her fingers press against the scar, even though the action is quick, it feels to him that a flame has just burst from the scarred area. The one thing he remembers clearly from that night is the moment the healers drew the knife from him, and it seems that that is what his mind has chosen to replay for him.
Instinctively, he tenses, moving to curl in on himself as if that will lessen the pain his mind is forcing him to experience again. It is not only a physical pain from the wound, but something deeper, more internal and quite personal. He has never spoken of it to anyone, but the more Alkaid speaks, the more his repressed thoughts and feelings seem to be drawn from him. But even as he wrestles with his fears and feelings, one thing still stands out to him: my love, she said. In the swirl of emotions that he is doing his best to navigate, he clings onto those words as if they are a lifeline.
His voice is low, the words hushed, but the room is relatively quiet, except for any sounds she might make and the sound of his quiet but slightly labored breathing. ]
I have never wanted anything but to protect Ishgard and her people, whatever the cost to me personally. [ She might notice the way emotion threatens to choke the words he is trying to say, but he does his best to push through and continue giving voice to what caused him fear then, and hurt as well. ] Although the healers did their work quickly and as well as anyone could hope for, I- When I was able to stand once again, I feared going before the people once more, not because I feared another attack, but because...
[ His free hand clenches into a fist, and a mist forms unbidden in his eyes that he wishes he could hide from her. ] Were my own decisions so misguided and focused on the wrong things that the people felt the better outcome was to see me removed from the leadership entirely?
[ He only did what he thought was in the best interests of the people, and although he cannot speak to the motivations of the one who attacked him, he wonders if perhaps that was not a representation of the people's thoughts as a whole. Would they rather have another in power? ]
One person may not always be representative of the thoughts of a whole, but what if that was the message they were trying to convey, and I, caught up in what I thought was the right course of action, failed to see it before? Ishgard is made up of more than simply nobles and those with vast fortunes to their names.
[ This responsibility does not land solely on him, because the delineation between the rich and the poor has existed for far longer than he has held his positions, but he cannot help but feel as the present leader, it is also a failure on his part that he has done nothing to see to the needs of everyone, noble and commoner alike. ]
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She pulls herself to sit up properly once more as he shifts to his side. She positions herself so that her hand may still be on his wound, but he can curl around her if he so desires. His head might find a place in her lap once more as her fingers still curl through his dark locks to try and ease him through speaking his fears. There are no words she gives to try and put proof against his worries and fears. He needs to speak all that this wound seem to embody - both physically and in his mind - and speaking to immediately soothe the words would do little good for him. She is to listen and heal, not to speak in his defense or abash what causes the fears. ]
Oh, Aymeric... my poor knight. [ Her fingers ease at his healed wound just enough to remove the pressure. ] You place so much on yourself... you internalize it... and all it does is swirl and swirl... knotting you up on the inside... until it cannot fathom being inside any longer.
[ Her fingers start to move gently again to encourage his aether to flow through the injury once more. She can still sense the aches and pains deep down. However, she can see how labored his breathing is and how his mind tugs away. Should this be enough? The pull from his aether still tugs at her own, begging for more. ]
The conference has caused you to fear too , hasn't it? [ Her eyes close once more as her fingers move in circles. Listening, hearing, making conjectures. ] You're afraid of yet another wound; a strike that would find its way once more through your armor... one that you feel you could not bare...
But, my love, you have another layer of armor. One that Nidhogg, Ishgard, the world, would have to pierce to harm you again... [ Her free hand reaches for the one of his that is curled ever so tightly. Fingers slide in between the space of his own and his palm, guiding his hand to rest gently over her heart. The shoulder of the borrowed shirt has once again slipped off her own, but she has yet to notice the near revealing nature of it all. ] I should have been there when they struck you... insisted more that they allow me to heal the man I love... now, all I can do is ease your knotted heart and help your wound... and never let them hurt you like this again.
[ Her tail lifts to drape around his frame as if to further cement what she has said. Estinien is not there to be Aymeric's sword, and thus, she will be the armor he so desperately needs. There is no doubt in her mind that K'thisru would agree as well, even if her affection for the Lord Commander is quite different.
Her head tilts to the side as she continues to listen to what he might need that he would not say. ]
There's more ... isn't there? Something else that knots up inside that keeps you from easing entirely... what is it?
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/rounds this as done!