decrypter: (hope.)
helena adams. ([personal profile] decrypter) wrote 2022-11-23 08:59 am (UTC)

"...then, come back with me, Erin."

She doesn't want to be touched without warning, Helena knows. So when she extends her hand on the table, palm up, it's a deliberate thing. An offer, if she wants it, for the reassurance that chosen touch can bring. Reaching out towards her, so that she's not the one that has to put in all the effort.

It's as easy as choosing to walk back, to where there are clothes not steeped in the smoke of stress and misery, to where her bed has been neatly kept, to let a very long day wind down. The shrapnel's been extracted from the wound, now what it needs is care and time.

There's a lot Helena doesn't know, won't know, unless it's given out or thrust into her lap. But that's all right - she's still learning the shape of this particular thing. It has softer edges than she first thought it did.

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