[the near-argumentative tone he takes in his response has her biting back on her own urges to argue back, because it is in her very nature to fight for what she believes in. to defend what she thinks, a want to try.
but she's grown from her mistakes. learned. and she swallows the impulse to instead focus on the tension she feels emanating from him. the strife.
and as he speaks, and as she listens, the ball of thread he keeps so tightly wound begins to unwind.
that he thinks his life is over. and her heart aches for him in knowing that, in their reality, upon their return...should it ever come, that it very well may be so.
and knowing that he deserved better. that perhaps, in a different reality, with a better father, a better mother, things would have been different. for him. for them.
but. they can only move forward from here. she can only see the present for what it is now. and she acts on the present, moving forward to close whatever rift there is between them, her hand gliding up his arm, to touch the side of his cheek, thumb resting beneath where the ghostly glow of where his Altean markings had once been. she has to rise on her tiptoes and bring his head down to meet hers, and she kisses him.
hard.
and with her hand resting at the nape of his neck, she pulls back to catch her breath, to look him in the eye.]
no subject
but she's grown from her mistakes. learned. and she swallows the impulse to instead focus on the tension she feels emanating from him. the strife.
and as he speaks, and as she listens, the ball of thread he keeps so tightly wound begins to unwind.
that he thinks his life is over. and her heart aches for him in knowing that, in their reality, upon their return...should it ever come, that it very well may be so.
and knowing that he deserved better. that perhaps, in a different reality, with a better father, a better mother, things would have been different. for him. for them.
but. they can only move forward from here. she can only see the present for what it is now. and she acts on the present, moving forward to close whatever rift there is between them, her hand gliding up his arm, to touch the side of his cheek, thumb resting beneath where the ghostly glow of where his Altean markings had once been. she has to rise on her tiptoes and bring his head down to meet hers, and she kisses him.
hard.
and with her hand resting at the nape of his neck, she pulls back to catch her breath, to look him in the eye.]
Did that feel like stasis?