Maeve
The kiss does something for her that she can't really name. It spreads a warmth through her chest, stopping the trembling in her hands and easing the way her stomach twists. He tells her that she doesn't have anymore to do. That her part in this is done. There was nothing left for her to do. It leaves a sense of relief to replace the sickness. Maeve manages a small nod, trying to clean off her hand on her pants, but she can't get it all off. Some of it is dried on her skin and under her nails, rusty red against pale flesh, nothing to be done for it now.
She manages to tear her eyes away from her hand, instead looking up into the familiar hazel of his gaze, leaning into his touch because she needs this. The softness in his eyes and the sweet gentleness in his voice. A look and a way of speaking he saves just for her. It's not something they've talked about. How different they are for each other. How much they hide away from the world. They only let certain walls and defenses down in the safety of each other. Something that Maeve hasn't really admitted to. This is different from everything else. Sunjata had been a whirlwind. So wrapped up in his own life and emotion that it was easy to get dragged along. Overwhelmed. Locke was a safe place in a storm. A steady rock that never gave way. The rest of the world broke around him and he kept her safe from it. Always steady and unwavering. To think that she had thought Sunjata could give her this was silly now. He was never meant to be her safety.
It seems so clear now with the way Locke is looking at her, cupping her cheek and offering her reassurance that she's more than willing to take. When he finally draws away she's left with a lingering warmth. There is a sudden urgency to tell him this. A need to speak, but he's moving to take care of the goat and she can't take this moment to do it. Maeve takes a breath, nodding slowly as she makes herself move to follow him back down the path. They split down at the bottom, Locke going to take the goat to the butcher and Maeve back to their shared home.
She showers as soon as she gets there, cleaning the blood from her clothes and skin before she's getting dressed in one of his shirts, never seeming to wear anything of her own when she's here. Despite the fact that her skin is clean of the blood it feels like that night all over again, waiting for him to come home. The only difference this time when she settles on the couch is that she knows he's okay even though he's not here with her.
She manages to tear her eyes away from her hand, instead looking up into the familiar hazel of his gaze, leaning into his touch because she needs this. The softness in his eyes and the sweet gentleness in his voice. A look and a way of speaking he saves just for her. It's not something they've talked about. How different they are for each other. How much they hide away from the world. They only let certain walls and defenses down in the safety of each other. Something that Maeve hasn't really admitted to. This is different from everything else. Sunjata had been a whirlwind. So wrapped up in his own life and emotion that it was easy to get dragged along. Overwhelmed. Locke was a safe place in a storm. A steady rock that never gave way. The rest of the world broke around him and he kept her safe from it. Always steady and unwavering. To think that she had thought Sunjata could give her this was silly now. He was never meant to be her safety.
It seems so clear now with the way Locke is looking at her, cupping her cheek and offering her reassurance that she's more than willing to take. When he finally draws away she's left with a lingering warmth. There is a sudden urgency to tell him this. A need to speak, but he's moving to take care of the goat and she can't take this moment to do it. Maeve takes a breath, nodding slowly as she makes herself move to follow him back down the path. They split down at the bottom, Locke going to take the goat to the butcher and Maeve back to their shared home.
She showers as soon as she gets there, cleaning the blood from her clothes and skin before she's getting dressed in one of his shirts, never seeming to wear anything of her own when she's here. Despite the fact that her skin is clean of the blood it feels like that night all over again, waiting for him to come home. The only difference this time when she settles on the couch is that she knows he's okay even though he's not here with her.
I'm undone about to burst at my seams
'Cause I am picturing you beside me
So let me be everything that you need
'Cause I am picturing you beside me
So let me be everything that you need
