Melinda shifted as Blaise walked towards her. A million things rushed through her all at once. Anger, malice, resent... thankfulness. Her eyes rose to look up at him, at his hand. It was obvious just by the look in her eyes, the pallid complexion of her skin, that she'd had a horrible night. Whether she slept was a question that likely had a negative answer.
For a moment she debated whether or not to move away from Blaise. How mad was she really? It was a strange feeling -- it wasn't so long ago that Blaise's arms was a place she'd gone willingly.
After a moment, she took a step forward. She didn't really fall into his arms, but the permission she gave was quite obvious.