[ Her own eyes reaching his is reassurance, more than she'll ever know. Her words, too, and something in him relaxes for the first time in moons, all the way down to his bones and he suddenly feels weak and tired and small. There's only a small crust of the bread left, and the water is half gone, and he decides that now is as good a time as any to consider it finished for now and he only lets go of her hand to reach for the tray in his lap, trying to twist to put it on the nightstand, wincing as he moves in a way his wounded ribcage does not enjoy.
But he pushes through the pain, as he always has since he was young. The only way to go is forward. What good is he as a First Shield if he can't even handle a little bit of soreness?
Still, the deed takes him longer than he would like, though not nearly as long as it feels, and he lays back in the bed, closing his eyes, hand searching out for Jill's once more. ]
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But he pushes through the pain, as he always has since he was young. The only way to go is forward. What good is he as a First Shield if he can't even handle a little bit of soreness?
Still, the deed takes him longer than he would like, though not nearly as long as it feels, and he lays back in the bed, closing his eyes, hand searching out for Jill's once more. ]
Alright. Maybe just for a little while.