Scoffed out indignantly, without room or care for rebuttal, the space between his brow fitted with lines before he rolls over to face darker shadows, already feeling exhaustion settle heavily into his bones.
"But stay if you wish. I need little rest."
(Says the man that’ll soon sleep so deeply you might think he’s dead of deprivation.)
"No, I-" and that, absurdly, is when it hits her. This urge to touch and hold, she's felt it before. The need to protect isn't new either. It's just in a context where Gabranth can give her nothing, and isn't that fucking pathetic? But she knows the shape of it, love, like a brick in her chest, slowly collapsing her fucking heart.
She takes a deep breath, but it just doesn't feel like her lungs fill all the way. Not when he's in the room, stealing her air. Not when she'd happily give it all to him.
"Right," she says, that tired humor back in her voice, "blind me eyes for not seeing it. You're knackered, mate, take all the time you need. I'll fight off the nightmares."
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Scoffed out indignantly, without room or care for rebuttal, the space between his brow fitted with lines before he rolls over to face darker shadows, already feeling exhaustion settle heavily into his bones.
"But stay if you wish. I need little rest."
(Says the man that’ll soon sleep so deeply you might think he’s dead of deprivation.)
no subject
She takes a deep breath, but it just doesn't feel like her lungs fill all the way. Not when he's in the room, stealing her air. Not when she'd happily give it all to him.
"Right," she says, that tired humor back in her voice, "blind me eyes for not seeing it. You're knackered, mate, take all the time you need. I'll fight off the nightmares."