[ By contrast, she's not kept. It trickles like blood seeping from a wound, down her arms, into her fingers as they reach for him, then to brush his shoulder, a little at first. The fine little cuts that already begin to heal with their blessing ( curse? ) of a symbiote.
Then she pushes forward a little more, rolls her weight carefully, a shuffle that's loud in the silence to press her forehead against his shoulder. She's fever warm, exhausted, and no, maybe he doesn't know how to give comfort and she doesn't know how to ask for the nearness of other people. She just leans forward then like a stack of dominoes toppling under their own weight, until her forehead settles against his shoulder. Her fingers still fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. Brushing against it back and forth with a faint absent fiddle, she tries to keep the tenderness still, things were still so new to her, in so many regards.
This too, felt so carefully undoing. No one had ever come to see if she was okay. Not anymore. ]
(Tell me about your... Earth? About the lights again? The people?)
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Then she pushes forward a little more, rolls her weight carefully, a shuffle that's loud in the silence to press her forehead against his shoulder. She's fever warm, exhausted, and no, maybe he doesn't know how to give comfort and she doesn't know how to ask for the nearness of other people. She just leans forward then like a stack of dominoes toppling under their own weight, until her forehead settles against his shoulder. Her fingers still fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. Brushing against it back and forth with a faint absent fiddle, she tries to keep the tenderness still, things were still so new to her, in so many regards.
This too, felt so carefully undoing. No one had ever come to see if she was okay. Not anymore. ]
( Tell me about your... Earth? About the lights again? The people? )