(no subject)
[The following takes place just after Wesley's entrance.]
She doesn't know how to explain, or if she even should explain. She's fairly sure she didn't, at any rate. Not yet. All she knew was that at some point they'd gotten from the booth to her room. As if she'd have let him be anywhere else this night.
The next thing she knew, she was kissing him like she'd never kissed anybody else in her life -- her blushing shyness with everyone else was the mask she wore to stay out of trouble. Her weakness had always been trouble. She'd been saving this welcome for him alone, ever since she'd learned there was a chance of saving him. Before, really. She'd never believed his death could be real, never accepted it, never truly grieved even when she was terrified to hope.
Now faced with him, real and here but here forever, unable to be anywhere else but gone, her tears flowed freely for all they'd lost and all they now regained. Grief mingled with inexpressible gratitute toward whatever force of fate had let them have this.
He kisses away her tears and she finds herself apologizing for being such a mess but she can't help it, her world hasn't made sense in so long. This place was like being back in Pylea at times, such was the strangeness of it all. But now he's here and somehow that makes sense even though it shouldn't. Even if it's only for right now.
So of course she asks him to stay. She's not worried about anything else. There would be time to deal with everything else later - for now all she wanted was sleep, nothing more. There was no need to rush things when both were grateful enough just to be near the other again. She knew there would come a time when she'd have to address the more troublesome details, like the strange pattern burned into the skin of her chest or the memories that she now shared with Illyria, but for tonight she would know peace.
Tonight they both would.
She doesn't know how to explain, or if she even should explain. She's fairly sure she didn't, at any rate. Not yet. All she knew was that at some point they'd gotten from the booth to her room. As if she'd have let him be anywhere else this night.
The next thing she knew, she was kissing him like she'd never kissed anybody else in her life -- her blushing shyness with everyone else was the mask she wore to stay out of trouble. Her weakness had always been trouble. She'd been saving this welcome for him alone, ever since she'd learned there was a chance of saving him. Before, really. She'd never believed his death could be real, never accepted it, never truly grieved even when she was terrified to hope.
Now faced with him, real and here but here forever, unable to be anywhere else but gone, her tears flowed freely for all they'd lost and all they now regained. Grief mingled with inexpressible gratitute toward whatever force of fate had let them have this.
He kisses away her tears and she finds herself apologizing for being such a mess but she can't help it, her world hasn't made sense in so long. This place was like being back in Pylea at times, such was the strangeness of it all. But now he's here and somehow that makes sense even though it shouldn't. Even if it's only for right now.
So of course she asks him to stay. She's not worried about anything else. There would be time to deal with everything else later - for now all she wanted was sleep, nothing more. There was no need to rush things when both were grateful enough just to be near the other again. She knew there would come a time when she'd have to address the more troublesome details, like the strange pattern burned into the skin of her chest or the memories that she now shared with Illyria, but for tonight she would know peace.
Tonight they both would.