Re: muerte/eddie quicklog
[Death knew that so many people had a difficulty with her looking at them. Really looking. But she didn't hold any of the same shyness when someone looked back at her. When Eddie pulled back enough, she only raised her eyebrows (one quirking up, followed by the other), and pressed her lips into another almost-smile. There was a touch of sadness to her, too, whether because of the shared history between them, or simply because she'd seen (almost) too much. She lifted a hand (a little cool, but not cold, palm dry and soft) and laid it carefully against his cheek. Her thumb pressed gently below his right eye, a long-ago, nearly-forgotten echo of a girl that had sat on his lap one night and watched green light flicker over his eyes.] Yeah. [It was a moment that was too quiet, too close, and as soon as she realized it, she was stepping back, away, bringing back distance between them.
But then he was grabbing her arms, shaking her, and that at least drew a laugh out of her, shaking her head at the 'rough' treatment. She met his certainty with a nod of her own.] We can do our best. [And then he was going for the remains, and she was waiting (suddenly, without visibly moving) a good number of steps away from him, watching.]