[To Mel's dismay, her insomnia seems to be returning, though she's been trying to hide it so Mail won't worry. She keeps catching herself nibbling on her fingernails when she's not paying attention, too. It must have something to do with that damn futures room, she thinks. So she found the library with the books about magic, and pulled out all of
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*But she sets her book aside and holds out her hands, hoping Mail won't notice that she bit the cuticle on her index finger hard enough to draw blood not long ago.*
I just... don't like my dreams lately. I'll be fine once I find the right spell.
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Well, I'll just have to make sure you don't further harm yourself until we do. [He stresses the 'we' while ripping open the first bandage and applying it to her index finger.] And don't you even think of taking these band-aids off, Mel, because I will know.
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I meant "we," I- Sorry. I'm really tired. *One of her hands twitches as she starts to lift it to her mouth again and catches herself in time to arrest the motion.*
I won't take them off. But you worry too much. Hell, I probably worry too much, right?
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Fingers are important, Mel. What happens when you accidentally bite a nerve and render your hand paralyzed?
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I think I'd notice before I bit that hard. *She's trying to make light of it, but she frowns. A Mel who can't hold a gun is no Mel at all, right?*
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You weren't paying attention earlier, Mel. [He kisses her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles.]
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But I just nibbled, I didn't actually bite. *She knows a losing battle when she's in one, and manages a smile when he kisses her hand.* Don't worry, love. Really.
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I'm going to worry, Mel. I love you. [He leans in to press a soft kiss to her lips.]
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I'm sure it was just that damn room. I mean... some of those things aren't even possible now. So why the fuck did it show them to us? *She tears the packet open, then looks at him, biting her lower lip.* They're not possible, right?
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Everything we did with magic... healing you, binding ourselves... It can't take that away?
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*She doesn't protest; she crawls over to him the minute he returns to the bed and wraps her arms around his waist, settling her head on his chest.*
It hates us.
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*She holds him tighter, and the medicine makes her yawn, but she's not sure she'll actually fall asleep; her mind's too busy fretting, and sorting through what she's read so far.*
It'll take a complicated spell. At least two parts, I think.
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