LOCKE
"Back door was open." He was stupid in hindsight but you know how the saying goes. It's not like he could've predicted the Voice would clear things out or anything. He just did what instinct told him to do. "Don't think I'm meant to play hero.." His head tilts just a tad, brain trying to keep up with everything. It feels blank, empty, almost. Then again that's how he usually feels after things like this. No emotion, no processing, just going with the flow. "Huh. Maybe should pay her shrine a visit.. Say thanks.." It all could've been a lot worse. He feels for Ru, he really does, but it could've been so much worse.
The corner of his lip quirks up as she works. He could stop her and do it himself, maybe, but he thinks they both need this. He's got that tight chest feeling he's come to associate with her and some part of him wants to say something, anything about it. He's almost lost her twice and each time it gets harder, even if she's fine. He leans into her hand, taking the comfort she gives. He'll have to return it but for now he'll let her dote for a moment.
She's done and he almost wishes she wasn't but she's leading him down the hallway to the bathroom. It's tiny and cramped and it's never felt more perfect than it does now. He watches her strip down, eyes checking for any lingering wounds she may not have noticed. He doesn't see anything, maybe a few bruises, some tender skin but nothing that needs attention. Luckily for her, he only has pants to step out of, ruined as they are. He lets her go first, eyes following the sooty pink trails that run down her skin.
Another other time and he'd have her against the wall. He kind of wants to right now but for entirely different reasons. "Sorry I can't wash your hair for you." He feels helpless and it hurts more than the cuts do.
The corner of his lip quirks up as she works. He could stop her and do it himself, maybe, but he thinks they both need this. He's got that tight chest feeling he's come to associate with her and some part of him wants to say something, anything about it. He's almost lost her twice and each time it gets harder, even if she's fine. He leans into her hand, taking the comfort she gives. He'll have to return it but for now he'll let her dote for a moment.
She's done and he almost wishes she wasn't but she's leading him down the hallway to the bathroom. It's tiny and cramped and it's never felt more perfect than it does now. He watches her strip down, eyes checking for any lingering wounds she may not have noticed. He doesn't see anything, maybe a few bruises, some tender skin but nothing that needs attention. Luckily for her, he only has pants to step out of, ruined as they are. He lets her go first, eyes following the sooty pink trails that run down her skin.
Another other time and he'd have her against the wall. He kind of wants to right now but for entirely different reasons. "Sorry I can't wash your hair for you." He feels helpless and it hurts more than the cuts do.
I wanna make up my mind
But I don't know myself
But I don't know myself
