[he doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. as he stands here with her, fingers entwined with hers, everything plays out so clearly on his face: grief, the kind of exhaustion that's more than just physical, the kind of fear that's immediate, yet also old and familiar.
here, now, she can see that the spy is gone, mask tossed aside to leave a man she's certain she knows; everything she sees is a mirror of what's in her, too. it leaves a man she trusts without question, with her life and also well more than that.
it leaves, in front of her, the face of a friend.
her smile finds its natural fade, but even when it does, the edges of her face remain softened. it isn't as hard as she might've once thought to keep her eyes on him, unblinking, as the sounds of the gathering in the background fade completely. in this one slice of time, before a plan has to be put to action, nothing matters except for this.
squeezing his hand in return, she lifts the other to his face, tracing a gentle thumb down the line of his jaw — as if by doing so, she could take the fear, the grief, and the exhaustion away, and absorb it all herself. she can't, of course, so instead, eventually:]
We'll figure it out.
[it isn't just a thank you she owes him; it's also confidence. strength. she does her best to inject as much as she can, trying to support what he's given her just like she'd done with his weight as they'd made their way to the beach. she can trust him; he can lean on her. and —]
no subject
here, now, she can see that the spy is gone, mask tossed aside to leave a man she's certain she knows; everything she sees is a mirror of what's in her, too. it leaves a man she trusts without question, with her life and also well more than that.
it leaves, in front of her, the face of a friend.
her smile finds its natural fade, but even when it does, the edges of her face remain softened. it isn't as hard as she might've once thought to keep her eyes on him, unblinking, as the sounds of the gathering in the background fade completely. in this one slice of time, before a plan has to be put to action, nothing matters except for this.
squeezing his hand in return, she lifts the other to his face, tracing a gentle thumb down the line of his jaw — as if by doing so, she could take the fear, the grief, and the exhaustion away, and absorb it all herself. she can't, of course, so instead, eventually:]
We'll figure it out.
[it isn't just a thank you she owes him; it's also confidence. strength. she does her best to inject as much as she can, trying to support what he's given her just like she'd done with his weight as they'd made their way to the beach. she can trust him; he can lean on her. and —]
Somehow, we will.