LOCKE
His hand drops back to his side the second she sits back, suddenly aware that he's touching her and how incredibly fucked it is for him to have done so. He's just so used to it. Save a brief time when they first met, touching has always been casual and easy between the two of them. In his other hand he's still clutching the little doll he was making and he doesn't even realize how tightly he's squeezing it until she turns to look at him.
He only manages to hold her gaze for a second before he's looking everywhere else, trying to see if she's okay. No bruises, no blemishes, right? She's okay? Healthy? Her face looks rounder, more full and he's curious but he doesn't ask. Not that he could find the words. He swallows thickly when she speaks, the unspoken words all too loud. "I didn't know we would be here either." Funny how fate do that, isn't it?
He wants to say he's sorry, to beg for her back, but he can't. The words die in his chest before he can ever attempt to say them. "Are you okay?" He just has to know.
He only manages to hold her gaze for a second before he's looking everywhere else, trying to see if she's okay. No bruises, no blemishes, right? She's okay? Healthy? Her face looks rounder, more full and he's curious but he doesn't ask. Not that he could find the words. He swallows thickly when she speaks, the unspoken words all too loud. "I didn't know we would be here either." Funny how fate do that, isn't it?
He wants to say he's sorry, to beg for her back, but he can't. The words die in his chest before he can ever attempt to say them. "Are you okay?" He just has to know.
I know I was born and I know that I'll die
The in-between is mine
The in-between is mine
