Despite now having Lotte in her arms(and therefore safe), all of that previous worry that James had tried to ignore surged forward like a fresh wound. Racing through the streets and tripping over corpses, screaming at doctors in the hospital. The awareness that Lotte had to be here shrouded by the knowledge that she might never find her. James sniffed, realizing that she was ridiculously on the verge of tears, herself.. but it was all fine now, Lotte was here, she was fine.
She is bruised, Meg pointed out.
And indeed, James pulled back and widened her eyes while hesitating to touch the scrapes on her arms. They obviously were not life threatening, but they were a physical account of pain, and James hugged her again, softer this time. "I'm fine, there are a group of people from the building in a wine shop south of here.." She hesitated in continuing when Lotte hugged her as if to disguise the secret she was sharing in a low, but distinctly worried whisper.
"Bran?" Confused, she glanced up, and her eyes tightened suspiciously on the man as he approached them with such priceless advice.
"Okay," she assured Lotte with a smile, running some fingers through the girl's tangled hair. Which is when she felt the distinct lump on the back of her head. Brows knit, and her expression teetered between disapproval and flat-out accusation when she turned on Bran.
"What the fuck happened to her?!"
J'aime, that is not how a lady conducts herself in front of--