[ There's a swell of shame as she thinks of it, of what she had felt on the battlefield; even now, looking at the shape of his jaw, she feels on edge and uncomfortable, a touch panicked and not sure what to do with herself.
It's hard to look at him for more than one reason now. ]
... Somewhere I -
[ Her brow creases and she hesitates for a moment, not sure what to do with herself, breathing out before she steps closer. He appreciates what he's doing; she just feels on edge. ]
[ his head inclines toward the door, the sweep of an arm. not to hasten you out,
but he's usually asleep by now, but he's still half-dressed, but another day might not find him alone. difficult as this must have been for her — courage, or guilt, or something in the approach — some part of him still bristles too sharp to voice. ]
[ Six understands a dismissal when she sees it; she knows she has intruded, no matter what she might have intended with it, and she feels the discomfort gnawing at her. Herbs in hand, she nods her head. ]
I appreciate you allowing me the time. I will not disturb you again.
[ And she means it, heading to the door to leave. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ She was technically a healer, once, even if it was magical rather than anything else.
Hands clenched at her sides, Six breathes. ]
Something to anchor me? Or - [ Brief hesitation ] - something so that I know it is you and not him?
no subject
[ or at least there isn't a problem for his face, which he needs (it's his best quality) ]
But when you aren't, it might cut through. Travels straight to your throat, you know, your lungs. Even when you feel you can't breathe.
[ isaac stoops up, slowly — cautiously — indicates the motion before his body follows. fiddles with the lock at the chest. ]
Burn it somewhere you feel safe, and focus on that. The scent, the safety. Who and where you are. I can't tell you it'll work,
[ a warning. ]
But it's a place to begin.
no subject
[ There's a swell of shame as she thinks of it, of what she had felt on the battlefield; even now, looking at the shape of his jaw, she feels on edge and uncomfortable, a touch panicked and not sure what to do with herself.
It's hard to look at him for more than one reason now. ]
... Somewhere I -
[ Her brow creases and she hesitates for a moment, not sure what to do with herself, breathing out before she steps closer. He appreciates what he's doing; she just feels on edge. ]
It will help?
no subject
[ he comes up with a packet (dried, folded in paper), passes it over at distance. ]
At least we'll all smell nice.
no subject
[ That's her attempt at a joke, as much as she can manage as she takes the bag. ]
Thank you.
no subject
[ his head inclines toward the door, the sweep of an arm. not to hasten you out,
but he's usually asleep by now, but he's still half-dressed, but another day might not find him alone. difficult as this must have been for her — courage, or guilt, or something in the approach — some part of him still bristles too sharp to voice. ]
You can always find me in the Infirmary.
[ better to keep boundaries ]
no subject
I appreciate you allowing me the time. I will not disturb you again.
[ And she means it, heading to the door to leave. ]