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Jan. 1st, 2000 09:51 pm
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Date: 2016-04-21 07:59 am (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Default)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter

He doesn't sit down, just stands by the table, one hand resting on it as he tries to find the words-- but what the fuck can you say? I got magical mind-reading powers right before I had a mental breakdown and you held me through it?

He makes a frustrated little sound at himself, shakes his head. "I didn't realize it then, but the flood hit right before the black-out."

Date: 2016-04-21 08:11 am (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Default)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter

He lets out a shaky breath, curls his hand before rapping his knuckles on the chessboard. "Right," he says, interpreting her shock, her silence as disapproval. She has a right to know, but she has a right to be alone now as wel. He knows it's invasive, and he tries very hard not to invade her privacy but he can't help that he can feel what she's feeling.

It's that worry over her that makes something inside him reach out again, to soothe the worry before it can spike too fast. He isn't quite aware he's doing it, and it's undirected, a small patch over whatever's bubbling up.

"I can leave," he starts, already moving to turn away.

Date: 2016-04-21 08:23 am (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Default)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter

His eyes widen a little when she grasps his wrist, and he looks down at it before he looks back at her. Her emotions move fluidly from one to the other, her thoughts not tumbling so much as crashing into the next roll of waves. She's high-strung and he can feel it, now, and it's like an echo of his own continuous stress.

He listens to her, too, through everything she's feeling, and sits down a few seats away from her. He can't be too close right now.

"It wasn't a lot," he says, needing her to know. "Just-- echoes."

Date: 2016-04-21 08:42 am (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Help me with the whole fucking thing)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter
He pulls in a breath as he tries to sort it all out. He's careful with everyone, because it pays to do so, but he wants to be careful here especially. So he's slow to reply, as he picks through whatever she's feeling.

"I'm not angry," he starts of with, going to rest both his hands on his knees, for lack of anywhere else to put them. "You were... kinder than I expected. Than I would have expected from anyone."

Date: 2016-04-21 09:04 am (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (To barmaids who don't count)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter
He feels relief at that, and he knows it's unfair-- but it's good that there's someone on the ship he can think around and not have to worry they'll know every little detail about his life.

(But if he thinks a little closer on it, he'll find that he wouldn't mind as much. Not when it's her. But that's something for later.)

He shakes his head immediately, through the unpacking of her concern and lingering affection. "It didn't bother me. I just- don't understand."

Date: 2016-04-21 05:07 pm (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Default)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter
"But it wasn't that," he says, slowly, eyebrows knitting as he tries to recall the moment. "You felt relieved, for a lot of the time."

Date: 2016-04-21 05:45 pm (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Default)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter

He makes a soft, uncertain sound- and suddenly she might imagine the way he'd looked when he'd calmed down, in the Enclosure, had they been able to see one another. He looks a little lost, unsure of himself in a way Tommy Shelby almost never is.

He honestly doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how he became the man who did that for her, who she cares enough for now to change that instinct.

Date: 2016-04-21 06:03 pm (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Default)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter

It breaks the tension a little, at least, and he huffs a soft laugh as he looks at the glass. He doesn't reach out for it just yet, though.

"I don't know what I did that you want to be there for me-- like that," he says, slowly. "But... thank you." That seems to be the right reaction, right?

Date: 2016-04-21 09:38 pm (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Default)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter
He nods, at that: he can't contradict her for a second. He did, and he would again, without a doubt.

"You helped," he says, firmly, wanting her to know that for sure, again. "And- you know now. That I felt those things."

So they're good?

Date: 2016-04-22 06:11 am (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Full of grace)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter
He tries not to pull in a breath, tries not to react like that does something, like that means something. He spends more than enough time with Furiosa that it isn't like he never spends time with women, like he never touches women. But this isn't the same thing.

He doesn't know why, but it's not the same thing.

He's suddenly grateful that the flood didn't affect her, because he can work on keeping his face neutral as he looks at her hand, but he wouldn't have been able to hide his confusion, nor the quick spike of joy and affection. When he realizes he should've reacted already, he reaches over with his other hand to cover hers.

"Good," he says, firmly. "I'd've been disappointed if it wasn't."

Date: 2016-04-22 06:33 am (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Help me with the whole fucking thing)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter
If she had been affected, perhaps he could have been glad for it-- because she might have helped him make sense of why his heart is suddenly beating in his throat, why he feels scared as well as happy. But she's linking their fingers together, and the moment seems to stretch on and on as he slowly rubs his thumb over over her finger.

He thinks something impossible will roll out if he opens his mouth: so he doesn't.

Date: 2016-04-22 06:50 am (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (Never got used to seeing the horses die)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter
"I do have a way with words," he says, but even if the words are supposed to sound humorous his voice only has the barest tinge of humor. He squeezes her hand, softly, and then finally risks looking at her again.

He can see it in her face, whatever he's feeling from her now. Wonder, happiness, disbelief. Part of him wants to warn her, not to get too close, because he'll inevitably hurt her-- but then he won't get to see that look again, won't get to feel her like this. So he shuts his mouth, once more.

Date: 2016-04-22 07:15 am (UTC)
bleak_midwinter: (With a black velvet band)
From: [personal profile] bleak_midwinter
Oh. He doesn't need it, does he? Not when her face is this open, when this can move her to tears. He lets go of her hands, but only for as long as it takes to wrap an arm around her shoulders, to pull her in like she'd pulled him in when he needed it just yesterday.

"I'm glad you're here too, Rey." If only because it gets her away from the desert, from her friends in pain, from having to fight for her life.

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