[he clasps at her arms and wanda pulls back a bit, looking up at him and meeting his eyes as he guides her awayβalmost urgently, almost like trying to keep her from a fear that is his own so she may not experience it, too.
exceptβshe's seen it, the pieces of memories and emotion slowly rearranging themselves into a clear storyline, even if context is missing. her fingers wring together, the feeling he has seeping under her skin as his hands remain on her arms. sylvain doesn't know this about her, does he? what she can do, how she can take in what a person things and feels, even without the effort to do so.
he speaks, and a hand raises itself to press against the side of his face, gentle.
no, it's not exactly safe, butβ]
You survived it. It can't hurt you again β it can't hurt me.
[because sylvain exudes dread, looks so out of his depth, like he's scrambling to put the pieces back together.]
no subject
exceptβshe's seen it, the pieces of memories and emotion slowly rearranging themselves into a clear storyline, even if context is missing. her fingers wring together, the feeling he has seeping under her skin as his hands remain on her arms. sylvain doesn't know this about her, does he? what she can do, how she can take in what a person things and feels, even without the effort to do so.
he speaks, and a hand raises itself to press against the side of his face, gentle.
no, it's not exactly safe, butβ]
You survived it. It can't hurt you again β it can't hurt me.
[because sylvain exudes dread, looks so out of his depth, like he's scrambling to put the pieces back together.]