[ Instead of telling her that he knows, Cassian rubs his thumb along the top of hers. Yet he does know, understands much too well the survivor's guilt that has woken him up with the names of the dead trapped in his throat in the middle of the night. He'd be more restless if it weren't for things like the chair, the difficulty walking still that they tell him should take only a little while longer to sort itself out.
There's a blanket on his lap and the hand not occupied with hers rubs the texture of the fabric before he does stand, allowing her to help, and spreads the blanket on the sand before settling down on it and giving her hand a little tug. ]
It'll take them a while to figure out what they think we can safely manage.
no subject
There's a blanket on his lap and the hand not occupied with hers rubs the texture of the fabric before he does stand, allowing her to help, and spreads the blanket on the sand before settling down on it and giving her hand a little tug. ]
It'll take them a while to figure out what they think we can safely manage.
[ He also knows that part of her doesn't care. ]