Her entire awareness is keyed in on him, and where he might be a bit more relaxed, she's all sharp edges now. She gives him a tight smile when he sits, leaning forward on her elbows, her own mug clasped between her hands, its contents suddenly fascinating.
She swallows, chews on her lower lip, her breath held for a long moment before she lets it out in as controlled a breath as she can manage.
'You know, it occurs to me, you could just -- ask the Bar. If it'll let you go home and come back. I mean, I'm not in a hurry for you to leave. Not at all. But if we could know whether or not --'
Has he ever seen Alex terrified before? Truly afraid down to her very core? He's seen her shaken, he's seen her livid, furious, and broken. But has he ever seen her afraid? She didn't let him see it when she walked through the door the first time. But the mere idea of losing him, of having to watch him be the one to walk away, it frightens her. Enough to make her complexion go pale. Enough to make her hands tremble and her mouth go dry.
She's trying to hide that from him right now, and maybe she's succeeding. But she's trying, because she's not the clingy type. In the last three days, she's had her world turned upside down, again and again. And for the first time, she's operating under the impression that not only is she allowed to lean on him, he wants her to. She was also under the impression that he needs her just as much as she needs him.
Which is why the idea of losing him steals her very language, leaving her stammering, staring into her teacup, and trying very, very hard not to let any of this turmoil show on the surface. She's had three years of practice. Maybe she's gotten good at it.
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Her entire awareness is keyed in on him, and where he might be a bit more relaxed, she's all sharp edges now. She gives him a tight smile when he sits, leaning forward on her elbows, her own mug clasped between her hands, its contents suddenly fascinating.
She swallows, chews on her lower lip, her breath held for a long moment before she lets it out in as controlled a breath as she can manage.
'You know, it occurs to me, you could just -- ask the Bar. If it'll let you go home and come back. I mean, I'm not in a hurry for you to leave. Not at all. But if we could know whether or not --'
Has he ever seen Alex terrified before? Truly afraid down to her very core? He's seen her shaken, he's seen her livid, furious, and broken. But has he ever seen her afraid? She didn't let him see it when she walked through the door the first time. But the mere idea of losing him, of having to watch him be the one to walk away, it frightens her. Enough to make her complexion go pale. Enough to make her hands tremble and her mouth go dry.
She's trying to hide that from him right now, and maybe she's succeeding. But she's trying, because she's not the clingy type. In the last three days, she's had her world turned upside down, again and again. And for the first time, she's operating under the impression that not only is she allowed to lean on him, he wants her to. She was also under the impression that he needs her just as much as she needs him.
Which is why the idea of losing him steals her very language, leaving her stammering, staring into her teacup, and trying very, very hard not to let any of this turmoil show on the surface. She's had three years of practice. Maybe she's gotten good at it.
Maybe he's gotten good at seeing through it.