∗ o1﹕ sender tucks hair out of receiver’s face . (for her girl <3)
The world was quiet in the only way it could be after some prolonged devastation. Smoke seemed to rise from unknown sources in soft spirals, the scene of gunpowder and something burning clung to the air. In the middle of it all, Carmen lay back on some ruined pavement, every inch of her body aching. Her muscles whispered complaints, ribs pulsing like they had been forged too tightly around that heart of hers that never stopped beating. The sky above them had begun to turn that sort of murky, lavender-gray just before dawn, when even the stars seemed tired of shining resplendently through the entirety of night. She could feel her pulse stuttering against her ribs, but the worst of it, whatever it had been this time, was over.
She didn’t flinch when Sam reached over, not even when fingers touched the side of her face, still sticky with sweat and soot. Just the softest brush, the tips of two fingers brushing that grime-streaked edge of her face. There was something absurdly gentle about it. As if they weren’t on scorched concrete but somewhere far away, in a quiet kitchen. Carmen let out a soft, slow exhale, her breath catching as if waiting for permission. Those dark eyes of hers, half-lidded, found Sam’s face, not quite searching, not questioning…just…seeing.
Smiling, she felt the skin at the corner of her mouth crack, dry and tender from wind and blood and whatever else had carved itself into the day. It hurt, but she didn’t stop. “You’re unbelievable,” was all she could muster, “All that chaos, all that noise, and you still find time to do THAT…like there’s not a crater twenty feet from us.” She let out something between a laugh and a sigh, laced with an equal amount of amusement and disbelief.
