ddiofn: (006)
𝔈𝔩𝔰𝔞 𝔓𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫 ([personal profile] ddiofn) wrote in [community profile] darkcastle 2017-05-25 12:54 pm (UTC)

He is -

different. The same. Vortigern Pendragon, still, unmistakable through all else; her hand rises without her say so (shaking; if not the cold then the shock) and finds his temple, her thumb drawing down over his cheekbone, her own brow furrowing. She had closed her eyes - had she? she does not remember - and now opened them to ... to what? It is beyond her immediate ability to decipher.

He is there, and that is as it should be.

Her first attempt to speak is a failure - her mouth opens but cooperates no more for words than it did to scream. She makes a small sound of most acute frustration in a throat rough from disuse; with effort, she says, "You," and does not, immediately, know what to say next.

Maybe why, but what possible answer might he have -

Does she fear that he could not answer, or that he could?

Her hand drops from his face to grope blindly at her side.

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