[ She sucks in a quick breath, eyes darting down. Shame warms her face and the back of her neck. The Immortan's brand stings her with a persistent itch, and her throat tightens. Yes, stolen freedom is a place she is unfortunately too well versed in. Even if she had years of pretending she had something close to it, the fury road her domain as she sat the head of rigs. No amount of power mattered when it could be taken away as easily as it was gifted to her by Joe. Only his to give because he acquired it under false pretenses to begin with.
And Joe is just one terrible man among many that plague their world. Is that a place worth saving?
A strange regret sits sourly in the pit of her stomach. Anticipatory guilt for something that hasn't happened to her yet, but she fears has already been set into motion. Maybe he didn't come back. Maybe she didn't go looking.
It's her turn now to reach out to him, the thread tangled in palm, drawing up between them as she moves to close the space between their bodies. Her movements are slow, but firm, in the way you might deal with a scared stray dog, her hand cups around the back of his neck, carefully avoid the skull made out of puckered burnt flesh. It ends with the soft bump of her forehead against his, lingering because there aren't words that can convey understanding as well as this, not without inviting unnecessary elaboration.
A nod, against his head before releasing him. Yeah. She knows. ]
no subject
And Joe is just one terrible man among many that plague their world. Is that a place worth saving?
A strange regret sits sourly in the pit of her stomach. Anticipatory guilt for something that hasn't happened to her yet, but she fears has already been set into motion. Maybe he didn't come back. Maybe she didn't go looking.
It's her turn now to reach out to him, the thread tangled in palm, drawing up between them as she moves to close the space between their bodies. Her movements are slow, but firm, in the way you might deal with a scared stray dog, her hand cups around the back of his neck, carefully avoid the skull made out of puckered burnt flesh. It ends with the soft bump of her forehead against his, lingering because there aren't words that can convey understanding as well as this, not without inviting unnecessary elaboration.
A nod, against his head before releasing him. Yeah. She knows. ]