[ There is a moment where, still in a panic, she struggles against him as he moves to hold her. But after a beat, the pieces fall into place, the haze of adrenaline clears, and she begins to recognize what's happening, where she is.
The music, the surroundings, his voice, his scent. These are all things she knows, as familiar to her as her own skin. Things that feel safe.
Her heart still races, and she's still wheezing slightly; beyond the utter shock of crashing through the ceiling, she's physically okay. Which is good, because she is not in the right state of mind to use the Horizon's power to mend wounds or broken bones, keep herself whole. Her arms and hands are shaking, but she allows herself to be enfolded in his arms. She can't remember the last time she felt another person's touch.
With a few shuddering breaths, she lets herself lean into him, lets her head fall to his shoulder. Not alone. He is warm and solid and real and here, and that is enough to at least begin to soothe her.
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The music, the surroundings, his voice, his scent. These are all things she knows, as familiar to her as her own skin. Things that feel safe.
Her heart still races, and she's still wheezing slightly; beyond the utter shock of crashing through the ceiling, she's physically okay. Which is good, because she is not in the right state of mind to use the Horizon's power to mend wounds or broken bones, keep herself whole. Her arms and hands are shaking, but she allows herself to be enfolded in his arms. She can't remember the last time she felt another person's touch.
With a few shuddering breaths, she lets herself lean into him, lets her head fall to his shoulder. Not alone. He is warm and solid and real and here, and that is enough to at least begin to soothe her.
Not alone. ]