Maeve
It isn't exactly the response she wants. One she's hoping for. Maeve knows better than to expect a sudden upswing. For him to take her words to heart and recognize them as something more than just words, but he's in the thick of it. Nothing will get through to him right now and she accepts that. She's a patient person; full of understanding and kindness. It's part of what makes her so good at her job. This isn't work, but the same skills apply here as well. Maeve sighs softly, watching the feathers fluff and twitch with the emotions coursing through him right now. The hurt and despair that makes them flare up from his skin.
His words don't sting. No venom in them to eat away at her emotions or the tenderness that wells up in her chest, encouraging her to soothe him. There is simply a bitter acknowledgement and acceptance in what things are for him. It's a start. Maeve will take this over him shutting her out. Even if she can see the light leave his eyes and the tightening in his jaw. The tell tale signs that give away how he's drawing back into himself, shutting out the world in an attempt to lessen the hurt that's so clearly seizing his heart.
Maeve sighs softly, taking up her own tea and watching him carefully sip from his. The muscles in his jaw feather, clearly something on his mind that he refuses to give words to. She takes a slow sip of the amber liquid, letting its warmth spread through her belly to try and soothe the worry that has taken root there. Maeve could handle his outbursts. She could handle the way he battered her emotions with the rain of his own. She could handle all of that because in the end she cared. She cared about him. Even if he didn't want her to. Even if it was clearly unwise based on the tragedy that seemed to cover his life. Yet here she was, a small light in the darkness to help guide him through it all. To steer him away from the cliffs he seemed so set on driving himself into as some form of punishment for the things collapsing around him.
So she lets him drink his tea in silence, simply being with him as she leans against the counter opposite of him. Green eyes watching each little movement and waiting for her que to move in. When his cup is as empty as his eyes, she sets hew own down and draws close. Maeve carefully pries the cup from between his hands, placing it on the counter and replacing it with her own as they curl around his fingers to tug him forward. "It's okay, Jata... It's going to be okay." And it will be in the long run. Whether or not Nate comes back. In the end, it will all be okay. It'll just be hell getting there.
Maeve guides him back to the living room, towards that dying fire that houses crackling embers, and into their small nest. She lays down first before guiding him down with her, managing to gently nudge him until he's laying on her chest instead of the pillow. Maeve wraps her arms around him, tangles her legs with his, and cradles him against her form. A feat in itself given how much larger he is than her, but she does it. Fingers brush through his hair and smooth down feathers as her lips press a kiss to his forehead. Quietly she begins to hum, crooning to him that same lullaby from the gift she gave him.
His words don't sting. No venom in them to eat away at her emotions or the tenderness that wells up in her chest, encouraging her to soothe him. There is simply a bitter acknowledgement and acceptance in what things are for him. It's a start. Maeve will take this over him shutting her out. Even if she can see the light leave his eyes and the tightening in his jaw. The tell tale signs that give away how he's drawing back into himself, shutting out the world in an attempt to lessen the hurt that's so clearly seizing his heart.
Maeve sighs softly, taking up her own tea and watching him carefully sip from his. The muscles in his jaw feather, clearly something on his mind that he refuses to give words to. She takes a slow sip of the amber liquid, letting its warmth spread through her belly to try and soothe the worry that has taken root there. Maeve could handle his outbursts. She could handle the way he battered her emotions with the rain of his own. She could handle all of that because in the end she cared. She cared about him. Even if he didn't want her to. Even if it was clearly unwise based on the tragedy that seemed to cover his life. Yet here she was, a small light in the darkness to help guide him through it all. To steer him away from the cliffs he seemed so set on driving himself into as some form of punishment for the things collapsing around him.
So she lets him drink his tea in silence, simply being with him as she leans against the counter opposite of him. Green eyes watching each little movement and waiting for her que to move in. When his cup is as empty as his eyes, she sets hew own down and draws close. Maeve carefully pries the cup from between his hands, placing it on the counter and replacing it with her own as they curl around his fingers to tug him forward. "It's okay, Jata... It's going to be okay." And it will be in the long run. Whether or not Nate comes back. In the end, it will all be okay. It'll just be hell getting there.
Maeve guides him back to the living room, towards that dying fire that houses crackling embers, and into their small nest. She lays down first before guiding him down with her, managing to gently nudge him until he's laying on her chest instead of the pillow. Maeve wraps her arms around him, tangles her legs with his, and cradles him against her form. A feat in itself given how much larger he is than her, but she does it. Fingers brush through his hair and smooth down feathers as her lips press a kiss to his forehead. Quietly she begins to hum, crooning to him that same lullaby from the gift she gave him.
Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending
still waiting for her happy ending
