【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-star resort and casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.
Due to a high volume of check-ins, temporary accommodations have been made in our parking garage for all new arrivals. We aim to have all guests moved into their reserved rooms as soon as possible. We deeply apologize for any inconvenience!
All are invited to There Is No Tomorrow, a Phoenix Casino soiree to celebrate our beloved guests. The festivities will begin at 1800 hours on January 20th and end at 1800 hours on January 27th. Please look forward to 168 hours of delight.
In an effort to raise happiness and encourage better guest relationships, attendance is required. The house will assist guests that are too shy to appear of their own accord. Please note that black tie attire is mandatory. As always, we hope you enjoy your stay! 】
PARKING GARAGE
ANY CAR IN A STORM
PHOENIX CASINO HALL
WELCOME TO THE NEXT 168 HOURS
Phoenix Casino is a-flutter with activity and packed to the beak with guests. As a famously ever-changing space, the staff would be remiss if they didn't deck the crown jewel of the Golden Peacock out. The casino glitters from top to bottom, shining brighter than diamonds, rubies, sapphires, opals! Party-goers are shiny and glamorous with picture perfect makeup, fluttering gowns, and sharp suits. Card tables are packed and the slot machines are a-ringing as guests play, play, play! Prizes, luxury, booze, attractive people, it's the place that everyone wants to be at.
Those people being dragged inside by some invisible force...? Silly, they were so excited to come that their bodies moved before they realized what was happening. Those are struggles of joy and definitely not the casino's infamous ghost hands dragging unwilling guests to the party at the behest of the house. Look, they're literally hurling their bodies at the card tables with unrestrained glee!
All clocks indicating day hours and night hours have been removed from the casino. Once a guest has entered, their Watch will jam, making it impossible to keep track of the time. You don't need to worry about that tonight.
▶ All characters on the TDM are WILDCARDS, which means they have not yet been assigned a card value. Suits will not manifest until characters are accepted into the game.
▶ All TDMs are game canon. This TDM acts as the game's January event.
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▶ The top level directory is for new characters only. We want to make sure new characters are prioritized and receive attention! If you would be interested in a game invitation, you can note that in your comment header. This month we also have an ongoing ATP / EMP where players can connect. Please feel free to utilize this for all of your peafowl needs!
▶ If you aren't satisfied with these prompts, please feel free to check out our LOCATIONS to explore more of the resort!
▶ Smut threads that take place on this TDM can be used for rewards. If both parties in the smut thread join the game, you may retroactively apply the character's initial card values to your 52 bank. If one character does not join the game the thread will not be applicable toward rewards (as that character would not have a card value). The character that does join would still receive a small payout for the encounter. Hopefully it was a fun thread regardless!
▶ We ask you to kindly add content warnings to your threads as appropriate.
▶ If you do not currently have permissions and kinks listed in your character’s journal we suggest leaving a note in your top level of any limits or boundaries for other players to reference.
Oh? [ there's a lilting giggle, soft and teasing. ] What a gentleman! I'm so lucky.
[ she almost wonders if he has a fever, with how heated his skin feels against her hand. she's dealt with enough patients to know inherently that he isn't; he lacks the chills and the sweat of someone who does, and he looks so relaxed and content in this moment that she can't really bring herself to pull away, even if his head wasn't cradled so sweetly in her palm. ]
Mm, there's some water and medicine. [ definitely not any she's seen before. modern innovation truly is something. ] Along with some other... self-care items.
[ listen... sex toys are self-care, depending on who you ask. ]
[ What a nice sound. He breathes something like a laugh, lowlit in the heat of his chest. Lucky. Maybe for the first time since he's gotten here. Only her telltale pause signals the reality of the situation looming on the outskirts of his attention. ]
You don't have to elaborate. [ Somehow, even mid-doze, he manages to look grim. ] I should have guessed.
[ her smile grows, briefly, at his amused huff, and it remains even after the implication settles in. it's hard to forget where they are, despite the fact that she has yet to figure out where this even is.
her thumb trails down from his brow to his temple, rubbing slow circles there as if in thought. ]
I don't think we have to use them. [ truthfully, she was going to leave them behind. better to pass it along to someone else who could really appreciate it. ] I'd rather just talk to you instead, if that's all right.
Having a modicum of choice is a relief, I suppose.
[ Low bar, but he's used to those. In the meantime, please pay him no mind as he turns to putty. She could be readying to beat him senseless with one of the sex toys and he would literally be none the wiser. ]
So sure, [ he intones, timbre fairly honest still. ] that sounds good to me.
[ A quiet swallow, contemplative. ]
Though I can't promise I'll have anything too interesting to talk about. I don't even know what the weather's like out there.
[ cute... she'd say she wouldn't have expected him to be so easy, but she's seen his type before: wrought in pain, starved for tenderness; his scars are proof enough. she has her own hidden beneath her robe, though people often forget about it when brought under her care. ]
Mm, I wouldn't say that. I think you're plenty interesting.
[ there's a pinch around his right eye that she's careful to avoid, her gaze exploring the rest of his face. ]
[ There's this feeling he gets when eyes are on him. Even if unsung, if the attention he's used to is mostly bloodthirsty and opportunistic, he feels it paring him down, however softly. One or one thousand... though he's inwardly grateful it's just one this time.
His eyes do peel open eventually, gazing upwards with a little humor. ]
Is that so? [ Maybe it's because she doesn't know him yet, he thinks soberly. ] It's Lighter. What about you?
[ there he is. now that he looks a little less dire, she can get a better look at him. his eyes are striking, a beautiful green-gold that reminds her briefly of byleth's, if a few shades darker. ]
Mister Lighter. [ very fitting, given how hot he runs, and one that she wouldn't have forgotten either. she's more inclined to believe that it's another one of those games this place likes shoving them into, perhaps in an effort to have its guests get to know each other. intimately or otherwise. ] I'm Mercedes, but you can call me Mercie.
[ it's not often she gets to meet new people these days, especially outside of a strategy meeting or on the battlefield. she didn't realize how much she missed it, just being able to share a moment of peace with someone else. ]
[ A brow lifts at her inclusion of an honorific, finding it unsurprising for her delicate demeanor, but strange to hear all the same. Her once-cool skin has equaled out against his own, warmer now for the prolonged contact. Noticing that makes him shift, a waking tension returning to his body. ]
Okay, Mercie. [ A beat. ] The "Mister" isn't really necessary, if you're amenable.
[ Finally, he does make to ease up on his elbow. ]
I feel great, actually. [ You know, comparatively. ] You've got a magic touch.
[ sorry, old habits die hard! especially old habits from ye olde fantasy europe. but she relents, ]
Okay, Lighter.
[ said in an approximation of his tone and cadence with which he said her name. it probably sounds a little bit silly, but it's fine. her fingertips brush along the curve of his cheek as he shifts away, held suspended for a second before she brings it back towards herself. his warmth lingers pleasantly on her skin, and she's momentarily gripped with the urge to press her hand to her own cheek to savor it. ]
I'm glad to hear it. [ there's an amused smile at "magic touch", but she is genuinely relieved that he feels an improvement. ] If it returns, please feel free to come find me.
[ Staring openly for a moment, Lighter looks caught between a quiet flare of surprise and like he knows he probably deserved that. His lips quirk slightly. Cheeky. ]
I'd say will do, but that might be easier said than done here. I feel like I used up whatever luck I had just waking up here next to you.
[ He knows sitting up is the right thing to do as he does so, the crisp, soft hotel sheets rustling over snarls of scar tissue running every which way, but he still thinks... the cradle of her hands was better. He swallows down the notion before it really coalesces, settling it square in his gut. ]
[ it's funny, how his appearance and those scars give the impression of cool indifference, opposite to the way he looks at her now. it doesn't take much for her to endear herself to someone, but it could be argued that this is just unfortunately her type.
the bed dips beneath his weight as he sits up, and she merely shifts a little to prop herself up with his pillow, chin resting on her hands. she's clearly content to lounge in bed longer; she so rarely gets to sleep in these days. ]
There's no need to thank me. I'm just happy I could help. [ it's what she does, after all. ] But if luck is what you're worried about, then... just call me, and I'll come find you instead.
[ Though he's more or less finally dredged himself up into a seat, the bed's got an allure to it that's hard to break free of. (Or he could just be tired. Hard to say what's what at this juncture.) Easing back, he rests his shoulders against the headboard, blanket still modestly pulled up over his belly. He's still not the best at eye contact, hair naturally sweeping over the unkind reflectiveness of his pupils, but he does cant his head at her, knowing. ]
Sounds like something that someone who doesn't get thanked enough would say. [ Cheek begets cheek. He does look aside again, not ready to contest that point in earnest. ] Duly noted, though. I'll try not to dramatically keel over on you like this too often.
[ it might be at her expense, but she can't help the laugh that bubbles up in pleasant surprise at his cheek. he's called it, of course, and she probably deserved that, too. ]
Why, I don't know what you mean, [ she says, innocently, blinking her big blue eyes at him. she knows exactly what he means. ] You wouldn't happen to know someone like that, would you?
[ well, he probably does. that's why he's read her to rights so easily, isn't it? or it could just be that she's simply very obvious. what's less obvious is his avoidant gaze, easier to go unnoticed earlier when he was on the cusp of going back to sleep, but now it almost makes him seem... shy, perhaps? she won't push it, but she does scoot over to sit next to him at the headboard, shoulder to shoulder. ]
Even if you did, that's all right. But I do hope the next time I see you, it'll be because you'd like my company.
[ Breaking out the baby blues on him... low blow. ]
Nope. [ Pithy, the slightest bit playful. Knowing that they both know, but not copping to it. ] Just an observation.
[ Which is true, but only half the story. It seems she's willing to accept that much, at the very least — Lighter momentarily stills at her delicate weight settling next to him as an answer, the brush of his skin scorching against her fluffy robe. It's a heat too clear and too deliberate, not dense or muddled enough to read as a fever or a flush. ]
I like your company now. [ It tumbles out of his mouth before he can consciously reconcile why. ...Usually, he'd make a break for it at this point, but here... there's no where to go. ] ...So, can't imagine that'll change much between now and next time.
[ is it a low blow if he's not even looking her way though... damn.
she hums briefly, curiosity and amusement coloring it even if she doesn't press for more. they have all the time now to get to know each other, whatever snippets he's willing to share. like his body heat, the warm solidity of his presence, which she's happy to soak up until he decides to move again. ]
I like your company, too. [ it comes out a little softer than she'd meant it to, and now it's her turn to avert her gaze. her smile turns sheepish— ] And next time, I'll remember this moment we shared, so it'll be even better.
[ They're such sweet words that they almost make his stomach drop. He wonders if he's said a little too much. It's not like who he is has changed since he decided to make the best of navigating this place, but ending up here, unadorned as he'll ever be and in the quiet cradle of someone's acceptance... it does serve as a reminder.
His fingers flex in his lap, thoughtful. Mitigating the ache of guilt twisting around in his gut. ]
Now that's something I don't hear very often. [ Half a laugh, breathy. ] I have quite a fearsome reputation back home, you know.
[ her tone is light, just like the rest of her, the gentle curiosity still present. she thinks she should be worried at that underlying threat, or at least be more concerned. but she also thinks that if he'd really wanted to hurt her, he would have already done so. mages are not known for their bulk, and she was always too soft, too pliant for the front lines.
besides, she recognizes the look of a guilty man, especially one who believes he's beyond grace and salvation; too bloodied and scarred for kindness, for tenderness.
slowly, carefully, her hand reaches for his, touching their fingertips together in lieu of actually holding his hand. ]
[ His smile tilts, faint at the corner of his mouth. He turns his hand over, rough palm facing upwards beneath the draw of her fingertips instead. There's an idle curiosity in it, the loose curl of his knuckles. ]
I get the feeling you've heard it all before. [ Not a combatant, he thinks to himself, but there is a gentleness that comes from bearing witness to it that he's pretty sure is at play here. As for him, well. The proof of it is all over, glaring mistakes made even more glaring by the way his body bears them as scars and aches and tensions. ] Ah, well. It's not important.
[ His shoulder rolls very slightly. ]
It is nice sometimes though. Hearing things I usually don't.
[ her fingers pause briefly when he turns his hand over, almost as if she were caught in the act. but she can't pass up all that new real estate, lightly tracing the lines running across his palm with a finger. his hands are bigger than hers, rougher and calloused, but she likes how warm they are and how they remind her of home: a small church in the middle of winter; a kind priest who opened his doors to a mother and her daughter with nowhere to go.
he's right, though. mercedes' smile widens as her finger reaches the heel of his palm, tracing the same path in reverse. ]
Even if I have, it doesn't mean I wouldn't want to hear it again.
[ in combat, your medic is your priest, your confidant, and your saint. they know your blood type and your pain tolerance; they know what you dream about when you’re pathetic and feverish, calling out names in the dark. ]
I don't mind. But I hope that you'll be able to hear those things from others sometime.
[ He's quiet, observing the path her fingertips make almost more than he feels them. But he does feel them, the temperance of her warmth undaunted over the coarse topology of his skin. A little like being lead to water, or to light. He has the wherewithal to think it's a gentleness undeserved, but he keeps that to himself.
Making him drink is another matter, even if he thinks about it. ]
I see. If I had to take a guess... [ When her touch arrives back to the divots of his fingers, he tips her hand into his, clasping it lightly. With a bend of his elbow, it brings it upward to press the line of her knuckles to his burning cheek. Just slightly askew of his lips, though he can still speak the words into her skin. ] You really know just what to do to make someone feel better.
[ That dim red centered in his eyes winks out when he shuts them in thought, a satisfied downturn at the sensation. He's ready to let it go in the same instance, grip slacking. ]
I can say, though. I'm glad it happened to be me this time.
[ she can't make him drink even if she may want to, even if it may be good for him to. she's mended clothes and bodies, stitched each of her friends back together in some way, but even her magic has limits—there's only so much she can do if they refuse. the best she can is to show them that there's another path, to let them know that they're safe.
her skin pebbles with gooseflesh in his grasp, fingers twitching briefly at the feel of his warm breath ghosting across her skin. she almost shivers despite being far from cold, and an incriminating blush stains her cheeks, suddenly glad that his eyes are closed again. ]
I try my best to, [ she says quietly, like a confession. his grip loosens but her hand remains where it is, the pad of her thumb resting against the corner of his mouth. ] But I don't always get it right.
[ It feels ill-begotten, to have anyone confessing anything to him that's not won or beaten out of somebody. But his is a violence nurtured by necessity and he metes it with the same intention. Forgiveness is less practiced, the urge to give it weak in his throat. He breathes it out, the sound of it catching and flickering. ]
Show me one person who always gets it right. [ Not a dare, but a quiet insistence on the idea of it, pressed like hope into the harsh lines of his body— that no one is without fault. ] And I'll show you a miracle.
[ he may not be accustomed to it, but it settles warm against her hand, over her shoulders. she breathes out a soft laugh, gentle and brief, and lets her hand fall away back to her lap. it's a little silly, in hindsight. but it's also nice to hear—that she doesn't always have to despite the fact that she's the one who holds them all together. sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively.
it's also silly to want him to stay longer than he already has. eventually, they'll both have to leave the sanctity and comfort of this bed. maybe a part of her dreads what she'll find outside, or maybe she just likes being able to talk to someone so far removed from things like crests and bloodlines and nobility. ]
[ He doesn't see a lot of miracles, either. In fact, he's been on the opposite end of a miracle for what feels like his whole life, weaving outcomes with his own two bare and bloodied hands. Measuring his thoughts, the weight of his own tongue in his mouth, he exhales a little bit. And settles on: ]
That's a shame. [ Truthful in its brevity. ] But I guess I could say I'm familiar with thinking that way too. All or nothing.
[ You either get it right or, well.
Well.
And in his long list of poor decisions, the thought strikes him that he hopes this won't be another. For her sake, if nothing else. Lighter levels a glance downwards, gaze shadowed only slightly by the sweep of his messy bangs, the consideration creased into his brow. He extends his hand this time, beckoning for hers again. ]
[ all or nothing. that's familiar, too. there's always consequences in the sacrifices made for what they believe in. they put everything on the line even when there was hardly anything to begin with—nothing but a promise made five years prior, when things were a little kinder, a little easier.
she's tired, she realizes the longer she sits there, counting their breaths. maybe waking up here away from the war and the bloodshed, sitting next to a man who sees her for who she is rather than what she can provide—maybe that's the miracle.
his fingers catch her attention and she looks down at them, then back up to his face, slipping her hand into his. it's getting easier, she thinks. ]
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
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[ she almost wonders if he has a fever, with how heated his skin feels against her hand. she's dealt with enough patients to know inherently that he isn't; he lacks the chills and the sweat of someone who does, and he looks so relaxed and content in this moment that she can't really bring herself to pull away, even if his head wasn't cradled so sweetly in her palm. ]
Mm, there's some water and medicine. [ definitely not any she's seen before. modern innovation truly is something. ] Along with some other... self-care items.
[ listen... sex toys are self-care, depending on who you ask. ]
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You don't have to elaborate. [ Somehow, even mid-doze, he manages to look grim. ] I should have guessed.
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her thumb trails down from his brow to his temple, rubbing slow circles there as if in thought. ]
I don't think we have to use them. [ truthfully, she was going to leave them behind. better to pass it along to someone else who could really appreciate it. ] I'd rather just talk to you instead, if that's all right.
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[ Low bar, but he's used to those. In the meantime, please pay him no mind as he turns to putty. She could be readying to beat him senseless with one of the sex toys and he would literally be none the wiser. ]
So sure, [ he intones, timbre fairly honest still. ] that sounds good to me.
[ A quiet swallow, contemplative. ]
Though I can't promise I'll have anything too interesting to talk about. I don't even know what the weather's like out there.
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Mm, I wouldn't say that. I think you're plenty interesting.
[ there's a pinch around his right eye that she's careful to avoid, her gaze exploring the rest of his face. ]
You could start by telling me your name.
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His eyes do peel open eventually, gazing upwards with a little humor. ]
Is that so? [ Maybe it's because she doesn't know him yet, he thinks soberly. ] It's Lighter. What about you?
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Mister Lighter. [ very fitting, given how hot he runs, and one that she wouldn't have forgotten either. she's more inclined to believe that it's another one of those games this place likes shoving them into, perhaps in an effort to have its guests get to know each other. intimately or otherwise. ] I'm Mercedes, but you can call me Mercie.
[ it's not often she gets to meet new people these days, especially outside of a strategy meeting or on the battlefield. she didn't realize how much she missed it, just being able to share a moment of peace with someone else. ]
How are you feeling now? A little better, I hope.
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Okay, Mercie. [ A beat. ] The "Mister" isn't really necessary, if you're amenable.
[ Finally, he does make to ease up on his elbow. ]
I feel great, actually. [ You know, comparatively. ] You've got a magic touch.
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Okay, Lighter.
[ said in an approximation of his tone and cadence with which he said her name. it probably sounds a little bit silly, but it's fine. her fingertips brush along the curve of his cheek as he shifts away, held suspended for a second before she brings it back towards herself. his warmth lingers pleasantly on her skin, and she's momentarily gripped with the urge to press her hand to her own cheek to savor it. ]
I'm glad to hear it. [ there's an amused smile at "magic touch", but she is genuinely relieved that he feels an improvement. ] If it returns, please feel free to come find me.
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I'd say will do, but that might be easier said than done here. I feel like I used up whatever luck I had just waking up here next to you.
[ He knows sitting up is the right thing to do as he does so, the crisp, soft hotel sheets rustling over snarls of scar tissue running every which way, but he still thinks... the cradle of her hands was better. He swallows down the notion before it really coalesces, settling it square in his gut. ]
So, thank you.
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the bed dips beneath his weight as he sits up, and she merely shifts a little to prop herself up with his pillow, chin resting on her hands. she's clearly content to lounge in bed longer; she so rarely gets to sleep in these days. ]
There's no need to thank me. I'm just happy I could help. [ it's what she does, after all. ] But if luck is what you're worried about, then... just call me, and I'll come find you instead.
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Sounds like something that someone who doesn't get thanked enough would say. [ Cheek begets cheek. He does look aside again, not ready to contest that point in earnest. ] Duly noted, though. I'll try not to dramatically keel over on you like this too often.
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Why, I don't know what you mean, [ she says, innocently, blinking her big blue eyes at him. she knows exactly what he means. ] You wouldn't happen to know someone like that, would you?
[ well, he probably does. that's why he's read her to rights so easily, isn't it? or it could just be that she's simply very obvious. what's less obvious is his avoidant gaze, easier to go unnoticed earlier when he was on the cusp of going back to sleep, but now it almost makes him seem... shy, perhaps? she won't push it, but she does scoot over to sit next to him at the headboard, shoulder to shoulder. ]
Even if you did, that's all right. But I do hope the next time I see you, it'll be because you'd like my company.
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Nope. [ Pithy, the slightest bit playful. Knowing that they both know, but not copping to it. ] Just an observation.
[ Which is true, but only half the story. It seems she's willing to accept that much, at the very least — Lighter momentarily stills at her delicate weight settling next to him as an answer, the brush of his skin scorching against her fluffy robe. It's a heat too clear and too deliberate, not dense or muddled enough to read as a fever or a flush. ]
I like your company now. [ It tumbles out of his mouth before he can consciously reconcile why. ...Usually, he'd make a break for it at this point, but here... there's no where to go. ] ...So, can't imagine that'll change much between now and next time.
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she hums briefly, curiosity and amusement coloring it even if she doesn't press for more. they have all the time now to get to know each other, whatever snippets he's willing to share. like his body heat, the warm solidity of his presence, which she's happy to soak up until he decides to move again. ]
I like your company, too. [ it comes out a little softer than she'd meant it to, and now it's her turn to avert her gaze. her smile turns sheepish— ] And next time, I'll remember this moment we shared, so it'll be even better.
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His fingers flex in his lap, thoughtful. Mitigating the ache of guilt twisting around in his gut. ]
Now that's something I don't hear very often. [ Half a laugh, breathy. ] I have quite a fearsome reputation back home, you know.
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[ her tone is light, just like the rest of her, the gentle curiosity still present. she thinks she should be worried at that underlying threat, or at least be more concerned. but she also thinks that if he'd really wanted to hurt her, he would have already done so. mages are not known for their bulk, and she was always too soft, too pliant for the front lines.
besides, she recognizes the look of a guilty man, especially one who believes he's beyond grace and salvation; too bloodied and scarred for kindness, for tenderness.
slowly, carefully, her hand reaches for his, touching their fingertips together in lieu of actually holding his hand. ]
Try me.
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I get the feeling you've heard it all before. [ Not a combatant, he thinks to himself, but there is a gentleness that comes from bearing witness to it that he's pretty sure is at play here. As for him, well. The proof of it is all over, glaring mistakes made even more glaring by the way his body bears them as scars and aches and tensions. ] Ah, well. It's not important.
[ His shoulder rolls very slightly. ]
It is nice sometimes though. Hearing things I usually don't.
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he's right, though. mercedes' smile widens as her finger reaches the heel of his palm, tracing the same path in reverse. ]
Even if I have, it doesn't mean I wouldn't want to hear it again.
[ in combat, your medic is your priest, your confidant, and your saint. they know your blood type and your pain tolerance; they know what you dream about when you’re pathetic and feverish, calling out names in the dark. ]
I don't mind. But I hope that you'll be able to hear those things from others sometime.
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Making him drink is another matter, even if he thinks about it. ]
I see. If I had to take a guess... [ When her touch arrives back to the divots of his fingers, he tips her hand into his, clasping it lightly. With a bend of his elbow, it brings it upward to press the line of her knuckles to his burning cheek. Just slightly askew of his lips, though he can still speak the words into her skin. ] You really know just what to do to make someone feel better.
[ That dim red centered in his eyes winks out when he shuts them in thought, a satisfied downturn at the sensation. He's ready to let it go in the same instance, grip slacking. ]
I can say, though. I'm glad it happened to be me this time.
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her skin pebbles with gooseflesh in his grasp, fingers twitching briefly at the feel of his warm breath ghosting across her skin. she almost shivers despite being far from cold, and an incriminating blush stains her cheeks, suddenly glad that his eyes are closed again. ]
I try my best to, [ she says quietly, like a confession. his grip loosens but her hand remains where it is, the pad of her thumb resting against the corner of his mouth. ] But I don't always get it right.
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Show me one person who always gets it right. [ Not a dare, but a quiet insistence on the idea of it, pressed like hope into the harsh lines of his body— that no one is without fault. ] And I'll show you a miracle.
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it's also silly to want him to stay longer than he already has. eventually, they'll both have to leave the sanctity and comfort of this bed. maybe a part of her dreads what she'll find outside, or maybe she just likes being able to talk to someone so far removed from things like crests and bloodlines and nobility. ]
That's something I don't hear very often.
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That's a shame. [ Truthful in its brevity. ] But I guess I could say I'm familiar with thinking that way too. All or nothing.
[ You either get it right or, well.
Well.
And in his long list of poor decisions, the thought strikes him that he hopes this won't be another. For her sake, if nothing else. Lighter levels a glance downwards, gaze shadowed only slightly by the sweep of his messy bangs, the consideration creased into his brow. He extends his hand this time, beckoning for hers again. ]
You don't mind, do you?
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she's tired, she realizes the longer she sits there, counting their breaths. maybe waking up here away from the war and the bloodshed, sitting next to a man who sees her for who she is rather than what she can provide—maybe that's the miracle.
his fingers catch her attention and she looks down at them, then back up to his face, slipping her hand into his. it's getting easier, she thinks. ]
No, I don't mind at all.
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