[She knows that feeling, that emptiness, wanting to fill it with anything or to just make it go away.
She can hear footsteps beyond the door, hears them closing closer before the door opens. She sees him standing there, knows that her suspicions were correct within the space of a breath; something is wrong. She can smell the liquor still on him, clinging to his wet clothes, and her expression morphs to something of despair.
There's not much that could leave him like this, she knows. The necklace she recognizes from the memories he gave her, and she can take a few guesses as to what's occurred, all of them terrible.
She steps toward the threshold, closer to him, then steps closer still. Her arms slip around him as she rises onto her toes, feeling the dampness spread across the front of her blouse as she pulls him in, but she doesn't care.]
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
She can hear footsteps beyond the door, hears them closing closer before the door opens. She sees him standing there, knows that her suspicions were correct within the space of a breath; something is wrong. She can smell the liquor still on him, clinging to his wet clothes, and her expression morphs to something of despair.
There's not much that could leave him like this, she knows. The necklace she recognizes from the memories he gave her, and she can take a few guesses as to what's occurred, all of them terrible.
She steps toward the threshold, closer to him, then steps closer still. Her arms slip around him as she rises onto her toes, feeling the dampness spread across the front of her blouse as she pulls him in, but she doesn't care.]