08-18-2013, 09:44 PM
What do you need?
"A hug." Sera - well, sniffles. Yes, sniffles, drawing a few of those renewed tears back into her body. She is mostly cried out and only a few spill out of her eyes, over her lashes and onto her cheeks, but something about the pressure of Sid's arms around her shoulders or just the Orphan's decision in the middle of the night that she wanted to come triggers that renewed emotion. And so triggered: Serafíne cries. Quietly this time, smiling into Sid's shoulder against the new onset. "Which you gave me. Maybe a week's worth of sleep."
Sera's voice is quiet as the house is quiet and quiet as her bare feet are quiet on the hardwood floor of the room. Much of which is muffled by a half-threadbare old Persian rug.
"I'm okay, though," Sera assures Sid, letting her go, stepping out of the doorway to allow her further into the room and turning to pull the door solidly shut behind Sid. It is objectively true: as worn out as Sera is, she is okay. Worried, sad, unbalanced, frightened, worn out: and okay above all. "Justin stitched me up, and Lena's giving me updates from the hospital. Thanks for coming, Sid. You must be exhausted."
Sera reaches out for one more hug, which smells like strawberries because she smells like strawberries because her shampoo smells like strawberries. The bottle looks like a strawberry, right down to the seeds. This second hug is a quick squeeze and by now her tears have mostly stopped and she reaches up to dash the last few from the corners of her eyes with her fists.
"Bathroom's through that door," a tip of her head toward the closed door close to the vanity. "I figured you'd sleep in here. But if that doesn't work let me know. I can make other arrangements." She waits just long enough to assess Sid's assent to her suggestion or displeasure with it, then turns to pad back across the room and crawl back into bed. At least if Sid assents.
"A hug." Sera - well, sniffles. Yes, sniffles, drawing a few of those renewed tears back into her body. She is mostly cried out and only a few spill out of her eyes, over her lashes and onto her cheeks, but something about the pressure of Sid's arms around her shoulders or just the Orphan's decision in the middle of the night that she wanted to come triggers that renewed emotion. And so triggered: Serafíne cries. Quietly this time, smiling into Sid's shoulder against the new onset. "Which you gave me. Maybe a week's worth of sleep."
Sera's voice is quiet as the house is quiet and quiet as her bare feet are quiet on the hardwood floor of the room. Much of which is muffled by a half-threadbare old Persian rug.
"I'm okay, though," Sera assures Sid, letting her go, stepping out of the doorway to allow her further into the room and turning to pull the door solidly shut behind Sid. It is objectively true: as worn out as Sera is, she is okay. Worried, sad, unbalanced, frightened, worn out: and okay above all. "Justin stitched me up, and Lena's giving me updates from the hospital. Thanks for coming, Sid. You must be exhausted."
Sera reaches out for one more hug, which smells like strawberries because she smells like strawberries because her shampoo smells like strawberries. The bottle looks like a strawberry, right down to the seeds. This second hug is a quick squeeze and by now her tears have mostly stopped and she reaches up to dash the last few from the corners of her eyes with her fists.
"Bathroom's through that door," a tip of her head toward the closed door close to the vanity. "I figured you'd sleep in here. But if that doesn't work let me know. I can make other arrangements." She waits just long enough to assess Sid's assent to her suggestion or displeasure with it, then turns to pad back across the room and crawl back into bed. At least if Sid assents.
But my heart is wild and my bones are steel
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula