My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room
Her smile is gentle as he works his way through the pronunciation of the phrase, having to give it a couple of tries before he manages it. When he does, however, she beams down at him in return, "Très bien, petite étoile." The Nightshade croons, drawing him close to her, pressing a kiss to the top of his curls as they snuggle together on the couch.
She's not surprised to hear that he felt like that too. Of course he had. They both were missing a part of themselves with Locke gone. Neither of them truly whole without him. To have him back now was like a piece falling into place all over again. She could finally breathe.
It's easy to offer the words of comfort and to make this promise when she's already made Locke promise her as well. If he left again she'd hunt him down and he'd never get the chance to leave them again. Maeve smiles instead, eyes soft as she looks down at her son, "I just am. I feel it in my bones. In my soul. He won't do it again. Not willingly."
She's not surprised to hear that he felt like that too. Of course he had. They both were missing a part of themselves with Locke gone. Neither of them truly whole without him. To have him back now was like a piece falling into place all over again. She could finally breathe.
It's easy to offer the words of comfort and to make this promise when she's already made Locke promise her as well. If he left again she'd hunt him down and he'd never get the chance to leave them again. Maeve smiles instead, eyes soft as she looks down at her son, "I just am. I feel it in my bones. In my soul. He won't do it again. Not willingly."
Maeve
