[ Those seconds without his eyes on her are put to good use. A few more careful breaths push the tears back into the sad abyss where they belong, and by the time he returns, she's sitting a little straighter, her pulse finally returning to normal. She accepts the glass and takes a sip followed by a deeper drink. The glass is raised to her lips again when he asks that innocent question, and it's like a switch is flipped, those damn tears rushing back in before she even processes they're sliding down her face.
Shit. Fumbling to set the glass on the low table on her side of the bed, water sloshes over her hand and onto the blanket, but she doesn't care. In the battle of fight or flight, flight wins because there's nothing to fight here, so she hurriedly pushes back the covers and ungracefully stumbles to her feet. She has nowhere to go but she can't just sit and face the way her world feels like it's falling apart. ]
no subject
Shit. Fumbling to set the glass on the low table on her side of the bed, water sloshes over her hand and onto the blanket, but she doesn't care. In the battle of fight or flight, flight wins because there's nothing to fight here, so she hurriedly pushes back the covers and ungracefully stumbles to her feet. She has nowhere to go but she can't just sit and face the way her world feels like it's falling apart. ]