MILO
He goes willingly with the offer she extends, slipping into the room with her, pressing his cheek against her head when she kisses his knuckles and thanks him, though he isn’t sure why. He doesn’t ask, simply content to be there with her to help her pick up her pieces while he soothes the jagged edges of his own worry. He’s nearly restless when she pulls away to turn on the water of the shower, even if his hand still remains in hers, and it only grows into a louder buzzing of his mind when she removes her hand completely.
Her pants come off first and Milo’s standing in a bit of his own shock – not moving toward his own clothes but simply staring, watching her with curiosity as she fumbles for her shirt next, the soot stained and ruined clothes finding a heap on the floor to leave her in her scarred form, Milo stepping forward to crowd in her space as she remains silent – eyes following the branches of a tree that flicker around her skin, tugging tight in places and smoothing out in others.
There’s a soft exhale as he reaches up to run his hand along the one that trails along her torso, a slow crawl, careful to make sure they don’t hurt her. And as if to break up the tension she might find, his other hand rises to her jaw, gaze tearing away from the scars to focus on her pale green gaze. “Lightnin’.” Milo breathes, a hint of his own quiet fears of storms and lightning strikes being swallowed down quickly in favor for trying to make it easier for her. “’Spose y’match the Governor now, huh?” He attempts to offer her a smile, though it doesn’t meet his eyes, before he’s pushing past that topic to focus on something else entirely.
“D’they hurt? D’ya need more healing?” He asks, forgetting he’s still fully clothed with how his hands begin to glow, to hover above the expanse of her scarred skin.
Her pants come off first and Milo’s standing in a bit of his own shock – not moving toward his own clothes but simply staring, watching her with curiosity as she fumbles for her shirt next, the soot stained and ruined clothes finding a heap on the floor to leave her in her scarred form, Milo stepping forward to crowd in her space as she remains silent – eyes following the branches of a tree that flicker around her skin, tugging tight in places and smoothing out in others.
There’s a soft exhale as he reaches up to run his hand along the one that trails along her torso, a slow crawl, careful to make sure they don’t hurt her. And as if to break up the tension she might find, his other hand rises to her jaw, gaze tearing away from the scars to focus on her pale green gaze. “Lightnin’.” Milo breathes, a hint of his own quiet fears of storms and lightning strikes being swallowed down quickly in favor for trying to make it easier for her. “’Spose y’match the Governor now, huh?” He attempts to offer her a smile, though it doesn’t meet his eyes, before he’s pushing past that topic to focus on something else entirely.
“D’they hurt? D’ya need more healing?” He asks, forgetting he’s still fully clothed with how his hands begin to glow, to hover above the expanse of her scarred skin.
as long as we don't die,
this is gonna be one hell of a story
this is gonna be one hell of a story
