She’s tired, so tired; she doesn’t want to move. Even just standing there is exhausting her from head to toe. She just wants to lie down and sleep, possibly never wake up, but that isn’t going to happen soon. She stands there, using him as a crutch of sorts. She leans on him for the most part, head resting against his shoulder. Pale fingers reach up and rest on the dark red embroidered scarf around her throat, hiding the scar across her pale skin that she had possessed since she was young.
“ m….h…m… ” she’s nearly inaudible, the soft hum vibrating across her lips and barely even caught by her own ears.
That was something. Not what he wanted to hear, but something. He hushed her attentively, sounding far from himself, and kept his voice low. “I’m sorry. I should have been able to do something.” They kept talking about terminal and no chance and other things that he wasn’t used to hearing in his immortality and had previously never had cause to be scared of. Now, though, he was, and for the very reason he’d never expected. He could do something, he knew he could. The fallen angel whined, tail lashing across the floor anxiously. Demon blood? Maybe. His? It was a bit more powerful. Mixed into the multiple medicines she’d been given, perhaps. She had his blood running in her veins already. It had a chance.
