[ Trust him? The answer is implicit, unshakeable. As she looks at him, she doesn't see a man she met five months ago in a dingy dirt cell underground; no, she sees one who's always protected her. She sees safe and loved and home. She sees what she's always wanted, what she's desperate to use to paint over her childhood of neglect and insecurity.
This is the man who taught her to cook. The man who watched her play at the park. The man for whom she, unwaveringly—
Riley opens her mouth to answer, but...that chokes her. When she closes her eyes, she sees him laid out in front of her, eyes sparkling. Around her the air sets in, hot and sticky, like she can still smell his blood, the blood that sank into her skirt and skin as she kneeled in his jail cell for hours upon hours.
The flash of worry and fear that crosses her face lasts but a moment. Then, she manages to give a quick nod with a wet little gulp of affirmation. ]
no subject
This is the man who taught her to cook. The man who watched her play at the park. The man for whom she, unwaveringly—
Riley opens her mouth to answer, but...that chokes her. When she closes her eyes, she sees him laid out in front of her, eyes sparkling. Around her the air sets in, hot and sticky, like she can still smell his blood, the blood that sank into her skirt and skin as she kneeled in his jail cell for hours upon hours.
The flash of worry and fear that crosses her face lasts but a moment. Then, she manages to give a quick nod with a wet little gulp of affirmation. ]
Mm- mmhm. [ Another nod, fervent. ] Mm- y- yes.