His hands were burning through her dress, boring into her skin, and yet she did not want to flinch away, did not want him to remove his hands. Somehow, they were rooting her to reality, to the fact that she was alive. She might not trust him, but the monsters couldn't get to her. Not in the lair of one of their own.
It was a sticky choice. It wasn't comforting. But it was safe.
He spoke the greatest understatement of the century, and even in her numbed state of shell shock, she felt the skin around her lips crinkle as a small sense of amusement upturned her mouth. She shook her head. "They certainly weren't pleased with me. My best friend was happy to have me here, though. And here I'll be." She dropped her head again. "No way I can risk going back there."
He moved away and she lifted her head, a curtain of hair falling from behind her hair as she watched him through her long eyelashes, always uncertain. He turned and looked at her and she expected... expected...
Not this.
She blinked, shaking her head, not sure how she was supposed to respond. When he didn't give her a hint, she said, "With a lot of marshmallows."
by Elsie Norton Mon May 30, 2016 7:17 am
