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It's a Graves thing (soundofwings) wrote in rooms,

Re: muerte/eddie quicklog
[The contact was comfort and reassurance, and for a moment that was good. It was a grounding - she was there, he was breathing easier. But the sweep of lashes downward, the lean into her palm and the smile, each one made her pull back. Not in panic, not with a speed that would betray the frown that was trying to inch its way across her face, but away. Carefully. She could remember the easy way they used to touch, physical contact that didn't mean anything else. Back before everything began to crumble away, eroding little by little until it was an avalanche. She remembered. How one thing was suddenly a million things. And so she drew back.

It was a thought that got pushed away, plenty of time to think on it later, as she was pretty certain whatever it was Eddie wanted to do with Crane's remains should get more of her attention. She listened to the easy ramble of his words, the near lecture-quality of his tone at first, letting it wash over her. She knew the where (could feel it within the landscape around her), and had guessed the why. And while she could have entered the ruined church with only a flicker of thought, she let her heavy boots (still hidden beneath full skirts) carry her up the hill along next to Eddie. She glanced over at the talk of dreams, knowing perfectly well how the hotel could pull and twist all of its chosen people together. She shook her head at his question, but didn't say anything until a few moments later.] Dreams can be surprisingly real here.