[ He freezes, tense. His eye is distant and hazed, unfocused, but the grab of his shoulders and the call of his name seems to snap him out of something. ]
[There he is. She inhales on a rocky breath, moving one hand to the side of jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. The tears still come and her voice is pitchy, riding on a vapour thin breeze.]
It's me. I'm here. I'll hang on. Okay? I'll hang on for you.
[She can't let him slip. She can't let him follow her down the slope, not like this.
Camille presses her lips to his forehead, fervent. Almost feverish. Sealed with a kiss.]
[ Let me tell you the whiplash between this and another thread I'm in right now is absolutely crazy, I'm going insane.
Anyway he's disoriented and harrowed, and his initial reaction is to almost shrink just a little bit if he weren't frozen in place as he feels the kiss pressed past his fringe, the promise that most certainly shouldn't be made. He puts a hand with its barely concealed tremble on her upper arm -- but it stays there, fingers pressing into her sleeve. ]
[ Thank you there will be none. Anwyay imagine his pain came back right now and he just passed out. It'd be funny, but no he doesn't. He only accepts back the crutch in his hands, still looking at it like he's just stumbled out of a reverie, like he's been doused in gasoline. ]
[ I should've given you my Journalist mem while memshare week was still there... it would've been really good right around now lol touches the ground. He's just quiet for a moment, considering. ]
I hope you get a positive answer.
[ Meanwhile if you avoid being dead by the end of this week I will be AMAZED. I'll welcome it but I will be amazed. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ He freezes, tense. His eye is distant and hazed, unfocused, but the grab of his shoulders and the call of his name seems to snap him out of something. ]
...Ah... Ms. Preak -- Camille?
no subject
It's me. I'm here. I'll hang on. Okay? I'll hang on for you.
[She can't let him slip. She can't let him follow her down the slope, not like this.
Camille presses her lips to his forehead, fervent. Almost feverish. Sealed with a kiss.]
no subject
Anyway he's disoriented and harrowed, and his initial reaction is to almost shrink just a little bit if he weren't frozen in place as he feels the kiss pressed past his fringe, the promise that most certainly shouldn't be made. He puts a hand with its barely concealed tremble on her upper arm -- but it stays there, fingers pressing into her sleeve. ]
Oh... oh? A-alright.
...Good.
no subject
Camille swallows. Nods. Looking him direct in the eyes.
Then her gaze shifts. With a wince:]
I'll just...sorry.
[She loosens her grip to collect his fallen crutch, propping it back up for him, ears burning hot with shame.]
no subject
Thanks.
We're alright?
no subject
Thankfully Daan doesn't hit a 11 on the pain scale out of nowhere. Camille can (not) sleep slightly easier tonight.]
We're all right. [She nods in the affirmative, brushing his shoulders again. Stifling the thick lumps stacking in her throat. A semblance of calm.]
We'll be all right.
no subject
[ Returning to his usual sort of dullness, albeit sprinkled with a distinct discomfort and awkwardness for whatever that just happened. ]
You're in a precarious situation... not that I need to tell you that.
...
So, be careful.
no subject
[There's the distant stare that she knows and loves. Camille smiles grimly.]
I'll keep my head down. I messaged the overseers, see if we can't figure out a solution. Something.
It'll be okay.
[Does either one of them believe it?]
no subject
I hope you get a positive answer.
[ Meanwhile if you avoid being dead by the end of this week I will be AMAZED. I'll welcome it but I will be amazed. ]
no subject
Thanks...
[Maybe it's best to leave that all as is for now. There's nowhere good to go from here.]
no subject
no subject
no subject