[It had inspired a multitude of things that she'd found difficult to process or express. He was supposed to be one of those things that would always be there, that couldn't get brought down by anything, that she didn't have to dread the loss of. Maybe, somewhere in her mind, she simply assumed he would always be there when she might need him, but that very thought had been shaken to the core when his heart stopped, when he dessicated just like any of them could.
She could lose anyone, at any time.
At first, that made staying away seem like the safer option, but Caroline needed people. She needed friends and love and company to be happy. Isolating herself would only make her angrier, and she couldn't fathom the thought of doing it just to save herself some heartache in the future.
That would happen. It was inevitable. Nothing could have saved her mother and nothing was going to prevent what might happen in the future, regardless of how they tried to fight whatever might come their way.
She was selfish. She hadn't wanted to have this conversation now, when his wounds were so fresh from his loss, but she hadn't been able to help herself now that she was here, wrapped up and feeling a warmth she'd resisted for too long because she'd been afraid.
The press of his hand against her cheek is less surprising that the sudden pressure of his lips against hers, but it feels as good as it always has, and she finds herself unable to fight the urge to stop. She doesn't want to, even if hiding pain in comfort might not be the best course of action. If he wants, then so does she, and she proves it in the way she responds, pulse racing and lips turning up against his mouth.]
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
She could lose anyone, at any time.
At first, that made staying away seem like the safer option, but Caroline needed people. She needed friends and love and company to be happy. Isolating herself would only make her angrier, and she couldn't fathom the thought of doing it just to save herself some heartache in the future.
That would happen. It was inevitable. Nothing could have saved her mother and nothing was going to prevent what might happen in the future, regardless of how they tried to fight whatever might come their way.
She was selfish. She hadn't wanted to have this conversation now, when his wounds were so fresh from his loss, but she hadn't been able to help herself now that she was here, wrapped up and feeling a warmth she'd resisted for too long because she'd been afraid.
The press of his hand against her cheek is less surprising that the sudden pressure of his lips against hers, but it feels as good as it always has, and she finds herself unable to fight the urge to stop. She doesn't want to, even if hiding pain in comfort might not be the best course of action. If he wants, then so does she, and she proves it in the way she responds, pulse racing and lips turning up against his mouth.]