Re: Quicklog: Ella/Marta
[Once in the cab, Marta scoots as close as she can to Ella, and fuck seatbelts. Arms wrap around Ella's waist (surprisingly strong for their appearance), and she buries her face against the side of the other woman's neck. And it's there, finally, that she shakes apart, her breath starting to hitch in her chest like she can't catch it (and if she were thinking instead of just feeling, it would remind her of the hotel's twisted night where she'd taken a knife deep into one of her lungs). She's never had anything (or anyone) long enough to feel the true rip of its loss, never had anyone close to her die.] I saw... [The words are lost in the side of Ella's neck, and the thought sinks like a stone as she can't finish the words.]