[Sarah squeezes his hand back, despite that irrational, lingering fear, despite being able to still feel the death at her fingertips, and it sometimes feels like it'll spread around to everything else, that it's all she knows how to do. It swirls around in her head. His entry. Dylan's. Jess'.
Her thumb gingerly traces the surface of his ring. She'd taken notice of it before. He'd said it protected him, she just hadn't yet understood the extent to which it could protect him, and she doesn't tear her gaze away from it until he speaks.
She wouldn't ask for that promise. Promises are easily broken and in the end, so are people. So are they.]
So you're... like a cat, is what you're saying?
[Nine lives and all. Because a morbid joke is what's needed here, obviously, and she's kind of morbid. She smirks softly at him, but it holds no real punch to it.
It's subdued, heavy like the rest of her. Sarah closes her eyes against his neck when she's brought in, tightening her hold around him. He's breathing. His heart's beating, she can feel it like a drum against her own chest, and the words stick to her skin. She breathes out almost shakily.] I can't imagine you... not being here.
[His having not come back those two times, despite the Calling forcing itself in, wired to believe it's not natural. She doens't care about what's natural. She draws back, not much, only enough to look at him, forehead resting against his. She touches the sides of his face lightly with her hands, and that helps, too.] And you're okay? Really okay?
[action]
Her thumb gingerly traces the surface of his ring. She'd taken notice of it before. He'd said it protected him, she just hadn't yet understood the extent to which it could protect him, and she doesn't tear her gaze away from it until he speaks.
She wouldn't ask for that promise. Promises are easily broken and in the end, so are people. So are they.]
So you're... like a cat, is what you're saying?
[Nine lives and all. Because a morbid joke is what's needed here, obviously, and she's kind of morbid. She smirks softly at him, but it holds no real punch to it.
It's subdued, heavy like the rest of her. Sarah closes her eyes against his neck when she's brought in, tightening her hold around him. He's breathing. His heart's beating, she can feel it like a drum against her own chest, and the words stick to her skin. She breathes out almost shakily.] I can't imagine you... not being here.
[His having not come back those two times, despite the Calling forcing itself in, wired to believe it's not natural. She doens't care about what's natural. She draws back, not much, only enough to look at him, forehead resting against his. She touches the sides of his face lightly with her hands, and that helps, too.] And you're okay? Really okay?