[She barely moved to his touch, just as rigid in death as she was unseeing. Tyki had contemplated closing her eyes, positioning her different, but he'd be happy to know that either way it worked remarkably well. Her skin was cold to the immediate touch, but behind her on the bed remained some pockets of warmth, around the edges and behind her shoulders. Dress crisp with blood and her hair fanning out on the pillow, nothing changed. Not immediately.
Not until the patting of her cheeks did something. It started small with the twitching of her plump lips. Her mouth parted slightly, a dark near-black trickling of blood escaping the corner to drip down her chin before her left eye's lashes fluttered. And then that eye and that eye alone slightly moved, coincidentally as if tracking Reid next to her. She was dead, make no mistake, but there were plenty of things alive inside her. And one such little winged creature was worming its way out from behind her eyeball, poking out of the inner crease of her eye with a wet and bloody struggle to free its wings. Two more began to climb out of her mouth, stirring the rest to emerge.
And typically, a hundred or so butterflies have a hard time filing out one by one. Her skin rippled, moved, things beneath the surface shifting all around. Careful, a few minutes more and the splatter will get everywhere. Hopefully you aren't too attached to these sheets.]