[She isn't sure what to expect next, and that shows. He might try to kill her. It's what she might have done. Of course, there's no point to that here on the barge (no point to it anywhere, really, with the way her body heals), and he's not dumb. He knows it won't help. So, what then?
She isn't sure, but she knows she isn't expecting what he actually does, the brief press of lips to her head, almost--she never had parents, she doesn't know, but it feels almost parental, even if it also feels like a substitute for a blow, for a knife to the heart. She doesn't flinch, but her eyes widen in surprise, pulse jumping in her throat. When he turns to leave, she follows behind him, as silent as her footsteps on the tile.
There's only one moment she pauses, passing him as she exits through the door, and her eyes search his again for the briefest second. She isn't sure what she's looking for--a trace of the pain that had filled them just moments ago, or any sign of the bruised and broken man she'd met just a few weeks ago. Whatever it is, all she finds is a series of choices. So she nods, her own choice made. She won't give up. No matter what.]
I'll be there.
[She'll bring her file. It's the least she can do. And so she continues on, heading for her own rooms to think.]
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She isn't sure, but she knows she isn't expecting what he actually does, the brief press of lips to her head, almost--she never had parents, she doesn't know, but it feels almost parental, even if it also feels like a substitute for a blow, for a knife to the heart. She doesn't flinch, but her eyes widen in surprise, pulse jumping in her throat. When he turns to leave, she follows behind him, as silent as her footsteps on the tile.
There's only one moment she pauses, passing him as she exits through the door, and her eyes search his again for the briefest second. She isn't sure what she's looking for--a trace of the pain that had filled them just moments ago, or any sign of the bruised and broken man she'd met just a few weeks ago. Whatever it is, all she finds is a series of choices. So she nods, her own choice made. She won't give up. No matter what.]
I'll be there.
[She'll bring her file. It's the least she can do. And so she continues on, heading for her own rooms to think.]
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