[ She knows. She likes that he's as honest as they come -- it's such a rare trait these days, and Mako appreciates it whenever it comes along. She pauses, aware of what it does to him, how her touch introduces that same flicker of tension; a visceral reminder of what happened that day in Anchorage.
She exhales, because nothing could compare to having a loved one die in his head, and presses her forehead to his chest. ] You're not alone. Not anymore.
[ She knows he knows that, but it never hurts to offer a reminder now and then. ]
no subject
[ She knows. She likes that he's as honest as they come -- it's such a rare trait these days, and Mako appreciates it whenever it comes along. She pauses, aware of what it does to him, how her touch introduces that same flicker of tension; a visceral reminder of what happened that day in Anchorage.
She exhales, because nothing could compare to having a loved one die in his head, and presses her forehead to his chest. ] You're not alone. Not anymore.
[ She knows he knows that, but it never hurts to offer a reminder now and then. ]