Re: marvel: eddie/muerte
[She knew that there were things that cut Eddie deeper than others, knew that he was made of this history of survival, but that survival left scars. And she did her best to navigate them, to know what could be pushed and what should be left alone, and she knew that expecting him to be the one that shouldered everything, that carried the responsibility for her ability to live, that wasn't anything that should ever be done. And she'd thought she was doing fine, she didn't actually expect him to take all that on, didn't even want him to, but she'd made a poor step somewhere.
She was lost. So lost. The anger in his expression, the hurt that was underneath it - so much of her attention was taken up by the too-hard pound of her own heart, but her vision tunneled so that she could see the emotion crossing Eddie's face. She stared until it hurt too much to watch, and then she looked away, down, took another step back, hand finally scraping along the brick of a wall as she shoved herself back against it, roughing the skin of her palm. It didn't hurt though, not in the moment. There was too much else that did.
Staring at the ground, trying to even her breath around the hard weight in her throat, she half expected him to disappear, to leave of the wave of his anger. So it took her a moment to realize that he was still there, talking, telling her to listen, but she was still trying to steady herself, actually chafing her hand across the brick, the rough sensation something to ground herself. It scraped away at the skin there, but it helped her catch her breath, to look up when his arm appeared at the edge of her vision. it took a moment of staring before she realized that he was there, offering support, and though she'd lost some of what he'd said, she reached out her 'free' hand to grab his arm.] You're still here...