(Abby's head turns in the direction of the faint ruckus. Her body turns too, almost imperceptibly, to face the unknown threat. She's used to reacting to the slightest sound, having to take every rustle seriously, but maybe she looks to give them both a moment to recover, too. Astarion from the surprise of hearing her say that to him and Abby from the surprise of having said it at all because she's unsure where it came from. It was a strange need to empathise.
His gratitude receives a grunt in reply in lieu of knowing what to say.
Then, lightly,) I don't know. (As if it doesn't ache like a slow-healing wound. Every single day.) It was him, and me. We didn't have anybody else.
(He isn't alone. He's still with whatever part of Abby that was left behind when she came here, but it's difficult to wrap her head around the notion. Here, she's without him. She's been having dreams of him struggling, without her.
Her breath catches. A quick in-in-out.)
I hope he's okay.
(God, she misses him.)
hey me too.....I say, looking at my mess of a backtag laden inbox....
[Softness feels uncomfortable; they aren’t there just yet, the two of them. Not him with her, not her with him— not even with the painful memories they’ve shared like a buffer, or the weight of the words thank you and I’m glad that you're free here still lingering.
But standing there in the negative space their lives have cut, empty air and immediate silence pervading, only one thing comes to mind. So there's no pretense when he asks, bluntly:]
(She doesn't look at him to assess whether or not he's being serious, simply leans into the ease of being told to do something, and following instruction. Abby is good at doing that. And she's barely spoken about Lev the entire time she's been living here, even though guarding him isn't her job any more.
It helps that Astarion doesn't act as if this is a soft moment between them, but more like a blood-letting.)
Just a– stupid kid, (she says, but her voice breaks over the sentence, cuz he was hers.) Saved my life back home. Cut me down after his people strung me up. (A sharp inhale, in memory.) They were going to cut my stomach open and pull my guts out with their bare fucking hands, and he– stopped them.
(Yara did too, but Yara is far too sore a subject; she omits the detail, and hopes she'll be forgiven for it.)
Where he came from wasn't safe. (Nothing unusual for either of them but,) I wanted to be that for him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i know how to tag in a timely manner
His gratitude receives a grunt in reply in lieu of knowing what to say.
Then, lightly,) I don't know. (As if it doesn't ache like a slow-healing wound. Every single day.) It was him, and me. We didn't have anybody else.
(He isn't alone. He's still with whatever part of Abby that was left behind when she came here, but it's difficult to wrap her head around the notion. Here, she's without him. She's been having dreams of him struggling, without her.
Her breath catches. A quick in-in-out.)
I hope he's okay.
(God, she misses him.)
hey me too.....I say, looking at my mess of a backtag laden inbox....
But standing there in the negative space their lives have cut, empty air and immediate silence pervading, only one thing comes to mind. So there's no pretense when he asks, bluntly:]
Tell me about him.
grips your hand also cw gore/violence mention
It helps that Astarion doesn't act as if this is a soft moment between them, but more like a blood-letting.)
Just a– stupid kid, (she says, but her voice breaks over the sentence, cuz he was hers.) Saved my life back home. Cut me down after his people strung me up. (A sharp inhale, in memory.) They were going to cut my stomach open and pull my guts out with their bare fucking hands, and he– stopped them.
(Yara did too, but Yara is far too sore a subject; she omits the detail, and hopes she'll be forgiven for it.)
Where he came from wasn't safe. (Nothing unusual for either of them but,) I wanted to be that for him.
(Lev wasn't asking for much. Only to be himself.)