[ The blanket is replaced by his caring and careful attention. Expert hands touch her forehead, her neck, her jaw with the type of affectionate touch that can feel extinct in the wastes. Or, at least, something that is very, very far away from the life she lives. In a delirious train of thought, it occurs to her that he might have touched her like this before when she wasn't conscious enough to appreciate it.
She is torn between the terrifying ache that wants linger here, shared air and pumping heart that seeks to beat in sync with someone and wanting to flee — the impulse to hold onto some crumb of dignity and independence to lick her wounds in peace now that she's no longer drowning in her own body.
In the end, she asked him to stay. The threat of separation is too dire, the stakes too high.
(And also, maybe it just feels nice to be held for the first time in years...)
Her breath steadies, slowing into a purposeful, measured rhythm. She takes a full breath in, readying herself to respond. ]
Don't know. [ A small shake of her head, not daring to venture far away from him, her forehead takes its place pressed against his quickly. ] Couldn't breath. Felt like I was choking. Drowning.
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She is torn between the terrifying ache that wants linger here, shared air and pumping heart that seeks to beat in sync with someone and wanting to flee — the impulse to hold onto some crumb of dignity and independence to lick her wounds in peace now that she's no longer drowning in her own body.
In the end, she asked him to stay. The threat of separation is too dire, the stakes too high.
(And also, maybe it just feels nice to be held for the first time in years...)
Her breath steadies, slowing into a purposeful, measured rhythm. She takes a full breath in, readying herself to respond. ]
Don't know. [ A small shake of her head, not daring to venture far away from him, her forehead takes its place pressed against his quickly. ] Couldn't breath. Felt like I was choking. Drowning.