| [Jul. 1st, 2008|07:20 am] |
She flinched when his forehead landed on her knee. But he didn't move, didn't do anything, and didn't smell like sex. She relaxed slowly, settling her hands butterfly-light on his skull. Her fingers combed gently through short, filthy hair.
"I didn't know at the time." And that was perfectly true. She hadn't known it would hurt. Hadn't known she'd bleed.
She'd hoped so badly that everything would be normal. It took years to realize it wouldn't ever be normal again.
She breathed softly and stroked his hair, his skull, the nape of his neck. His scent wound around her, earthy and subtle. Her brow brushed against warm brown locks as she bent forward. An inhalation brought emotions, injuries, stress, relief all swirling into her lungs. She petted again. "Everything's all right." She just wasn't sure who she was talking to. |
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