My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room
All she remembers is Jude's soft voice, telling her that she can rest, to close her eyes and sleep while they were still on the skyboat. And she does just that. Her eyes drift shut, breathing shallow as she slips under, unable to keep herself in the waking world a moment longer.
There are snippets that she catches. Her name, hands, the trees swaying above her and the scent of the ocean. Waves crashing on the shoreline and the cawing of Hels despite the late hour. She's not carried by Jude to the clinic. The clinic. The clinic that Harper oversees often and doesn't stray far from.
Then her mind circles that fact. That person.
Harper, Harper, Harper.
It's the only word she manages. The only thing she can say as she goes in and out of consciousness.
She's not sure how long she sleeps, but when she finally comes to she feels as if she's been bowled over by a dragon. Her eyes are heavy, body still, but not in the same way that it had been in in the weeks prior. There is a weight around her hand, a steady pressure that tugs her attention and she lets out a breath as the slightly disheveled mop of hair that could only be Harper's bowed over her hand. Maeve lets out a sudden exhale as if her chest is suddenly compressed, tears springing to her jade eyes, "Harper.." She whispers, voice hoarse from disuse over the last few days, cutting through the silence of the room.
There are snippets that she catches. Her name, hands, the trees swaying above her and the scent of the ocean. Waves crashing on the shoreline and the cawing of Hels despite the late hour. She's not carried by Jude to the clinic. The clinic. The clinic that Harper oversees often and doesn't stray far from.
Then her mind circles that fact. That person.
Harper, Harper, Harper.
It's the only word she manages. The only thing she can say as she goes in and out of consciousness.
She's not sure how long she sleeps, but when she finally comes to she feels as if she's been bowled over by a dragon. Her eyes are heavy, body still, but not in the same way that it had been in in the weeks prior. There is a weight around her hand, a steady pressure that tugs her attention and she lets out a breath as the slightly disheveled mop of hair that could only be Harper's bowed over her hand. Maeve lets out a sudden exhale as if her chest is suddenly compressed, tears springing to her jade eyes, "Harper.." She whispers, voice hoarse from disuse over the last few days, cutting through the silence of the room.
Maeve
