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Helena Wells-Quinzel is H.G. Wells (indelibleink) wrote in makebelievelog,

When Myka's gaze met her own, Helena could've sworn she stopped breathing, but she wasn't exactly paying attention to that. She was too caught up in the emotions she felt stirring within her to realize her breathing pattern had changed. It felt like an eternity had passed in those few moments. And for a moment, Helena wondered if Myka would turn around and leave, but she'd entered instead. Helena felt the brush against her and she closed her eyes briefly, taking in a breath through her nose, which brought Myka's scent along with it. Opening her eyes, she closed the door after Myka had entered. Brushing a hand through her hair, Helena remained facing the door for some moments before she turned around.

And she turned around in time to see Myka's hand cover her mouth as though she'd just realized something. Though the body language Myka was exuding wasn't exactly good, so Helena was of course worried. Was this too much for Myka to handle so soon? A worried look crossing her face, Helena moved over to the couch, sitting down beside Myka. Though she wasn't exactly certain what to say. She didn't know if she should pry or not, and she knew better than to ask if Myka was all right. Everything about her physical appearance said she was anything. So she reached out to set her hand on Myka's shoulder, hesitating midway through the movement out of fear that this was some dream or that she was a hologram again. But she did set her hand on Myka's shoulder, silently telling Myka she was there and was willing to listen. Even though there was silence between them, it wasn't uncomfortable. Helena actually found a calm in Myka's presence that she hadn't felt in...God only knew how long. The Victorian woman had lost track of time, but it had been a long time since she'd felt a sense of calm, a sense of belonging.