[She does move closer. There's no coffin this time but they're as close as they were before. Camille slings an arm around her and sets her head under Karlach's chin. The difference in size brings to mind men she's fucked in depressive jags. High school seniors shot up like beanstalks while her thirteen year old body bent under their weight.
Her mother, when she was small. Before she gave up on her. Camille presses her nose to the toasted collarbone and smells nothing of home.]
Everyone deserves to live. You deserve to get your life back. And you can.
[for someone as big as she is, karlach is a gentle soul. her touches are cautious at first - seeking permission, trying to make sure that it's okay. but when it seems to be, she's solid and warm. like a fireplace after a cold day out in the snow.
the fire's getting a little difficult to fuel, but she's trying. it's all she can do.]
Maybe. [she says, but it sounds a little placating. like the way someone accepts condolences.]
I don't want it like this, though. Not in exchange for someone else.
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Her mother, when she was small. Before she gave up on her. Camille presses her nose to the toasted collarbone and smells nothing of home.]
Everyone deserves to live. You deserve to get your life back. And you can.
[She might.]
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the fire's getting a little difficult to fuel, but she's trying. it's all she can do.]
Maybe. [she says, but it sounds a little placating. like the way someone accepts condolences.]
I don't want it like this, though. Not in exchange for someone else.