Ellie hasn't yet realized she's hurt him. Is hurting him. Her fingers dig into his arm, holding on, numb to the pain of his grip, though she'll be confused by the marks, later. Now, no single breath seems to get her enough air, but this close, it all smells of him rather than the blood and frost.

She is loud, in the circle made by his arms. Soft gasps. The tenderness of the attempted levity brings tears to her eyes, and they skip down her cheeks unchecked.

It's been some time since she's cracked so badly in front of someone.

"Fuck," she gasps, thickly, and puts her face in his shoulder, trembling. Trusting that he'll guard, for a second. The screams have stopped -- they've preyed on her attention, and for the moment they no longer have it.

"Did you hear it?" she asks, softly. It was something. There had to be something. She wouldn't be set off like that out of nowhere. Even if they didn't hear the same thing-