[ It's a selfish desire to be close when he's still battered and bruised, but she can't bring herself to regret it too much — not when she's missed this like being homesick. It feels good to be tucked against his side. It feels right. For the first time in days, she feels like she can be halfway at ease. And rest a little. Maybe close her eyes a minute.
She lets one hand rest carefully over his chest, her palm pressed against the place where his heart beats.
Very quietly, tired and a bit rough around the edges: ]
I missed you.
[ So much. Even though he hadn't really gone anywhere at all. ]
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She lets one hand rest carefully over his chest, her palm pressed against the place where his heart beats.
Very quietly, tired and a bit rough around the edges: ]
I missed you.
[ So much. Even though he hadn't really gone anywhere at all. ]