[She didn't know it would catch him, though. When she hears his voice, her eyes shutter. The last time she saw him . . .]
[That's why she has to open the door. Because of the last time she saw him: the way he pressed his hands to her neck like he was trying to strangle her, trying to hold her blood in against the impossible tide of her heart pumping against her body. The last time she saw him, he was dying, too.]
[She leaves bloody fingerprints on the doorknob and the frame when she opens up. Her hands fall limp to her side when she sees him. Him, whole and hale if not happy, his gut unrent. She frowns, a confused and tight expression. This is not how things were.]
You're not dead. [Impossible to tell if she's happy or not about this.]
spam
[She didn't know it would catch him, though. When she hears his voice, her eyes shutter. The last time she saw him . . .]
[That's why she has to open the door. Because of the last time she saw him: the way he pressed his hands to her neck like he was trying to strangle her, trying to hold her blood in against the impossible tide of her heart pumping against her body. The last time she saw him, he was dying, too.]
[She leaves bloody fingerprints on the doorknob and the frame when she opens up. Her hands fall limp to her side when she sees him. Him, whole and hale if not happy, his gut unrent. She frowns, a confused and tight expression. This is not how things were.]
You're not dead. [Impossible to tell if she's happy or not about this.]