He is permitted. Of course he is permitted this familiarity. It leaves her with both hands cupped around his, tightening her grip in response.
She so fiercely wants to make this alright, but knows it is not so simple as a reassurance. It is even perhaps beyond her to do anything other than what she already has done: healing, and heartfelt words. There is blood in the road and it is not enough. Not enough to repay all of this.
"You're alright," is a different reassurance, imparted as her fingers grip his own. Highlighting something she has learned over time: it is an act of stubbornness and spite and defiance to continue living, when those who imagine themselves arbiters of such matters will it otherwise. He is alive and safe and whatever waited for him at the end of this journey will never come to pass. That is a kind of victory.
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She so fiercely wants to make this alright, but knows it is not so simple as a reassurance. It is even perhaps beyond her to do anything other than what she already has done: healing, and heartfelt words. There is blood in the road and it is not enough. Not enough to repay all of this.
"You're alright," is a different reassurance, imparted as her fingers grip his own. Highlighting something she has learned over time: it is an act of stubbornness and spite and defiance to continue living, when those who imagine themselves arbiters of such matters will it otherwise. He is alive and safe and whatever waited for him at the end of this journey will never come to pass. That is a kind of victory.