Re: Front Porch of Asgard
When Kain rushed into the burning greenhouse, she stood frozen to her spot on the porch. It would have been easy to say time stopped for her, but with the sound of the fire and people screaming over it - people who were her friends and her second family - she was constantly and unyieldingly reminded of the fact that he was in there, risking his life to save her work.
The books and medicines didn't matter at this point. It took the man she loved running into a burning building to make her realize what was the most meaningful to her. A handful of tears rolled down her face, but her blank expression did not fade and she made no attempt to wipe them away. For all she knew, he was stuck inside, burning alive, shrieking in -
No, she would have heard him. Not that that was a comforting thought.
When the dragoon did finally emerge from the greenhouse, walking across the lawn slowly as the others continued to extinguish the fire, she took her first startled breath before managing to make her way to Kain. When he handed her the books, she took them, shakily dragging her fingers across their spines. Her journal. And two of her notebooks. They were hot to the touch and brittle, but here they were, in her grasp. She wasn't able to say anything; no words could come out of her throat.
But then she gazed back up at him, and the emotion in her face conveyed more than she could say. Blythe would have hugged Kain, but she didn't know if he was badly hurt or what condition he was in. So she placed a hand to his cheek and almost recoiled at how warm his skin was. "You-you idiot... How damaged are you? Your lungs? How are your lungs? And your throat?" She was aware of the affects of smoke on the respiratory system. And he had been in there for some time.