[ Underneath the weight of his hand, her heart still throbs in her chest — a slightly unsteady but strong rhythm, painful for reasons related more to the fondness she sees in his face than the toxin so recently purged from her veins. Yeah. She wants to go home. She wants to go home, curl into bed with him, and not leave for days. But he's right. They'll have to fight their way out first, and she probably hasn't helped things much by putting the entire place on high alert with her bloody rampage.
She doesn't feel entirely ready to move yet. But she has to. She has to force herself to let go of him and brace her tired body for what comes next.
Normally, she'd brush off the idea of being careful. She'd say something wry and dismissive. She might even laugh — that low, rough chuckle of hers. But this time, she looks Rex in the eye, her grip on him tightening. ]
I'll try. [ Finally, she makes her fingers uncurl, releasing him. ] But I need you. I don't... [ Her jaw works. ] I don't fucking trust myself.
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She doesn't feel entirely ready to move yet. But she has to. She has to force herself to let go of him and brace her tired body for what comes next.
Normally, she'd brush off the idea of being careful. She'd say something wry and dismissive. She might even laugh — that low, rough chuckle of hers. But this time, she looks Rex in the eye, her grip on him tightening. ]
I'll try. [ Finally, she makes her fingers uncurl, releasing him. ] But I need you. I don't... [ Her jaw works. ] I don't fucking trust myself.