[ his touch draws her attention, coaxing her to lift her head from her hands to his face when he speaks. there's a little festering anxiety in her face, making the space between her eyebrows knot and drawing tension into the shape of her mouth. she's strained with worry and tired now, worn down by the weight of her own feelings and the devastation around them.
still, she's surprisingly compliant for him, shifting closer.
no subject
still, she's surprisingly compliant for him, shifting closer.
quietly: ] What d'you need, hon?