*・ﾟ — THERE WAS NO THOUGHTS; no ghosts of violence which would leave her shaking, gasping for air. The domesticity was deafening, yes, but it was better than being hit in waves by memories she tried to keep locked behind a dark door, in the back of her mind. She didn’t feel like she was drowning in disturbing images, for once. Perhaps it was the soreness of her bones, the ache of her muscles – Or the warm presence next to her. That thought alone would make Freyja shudder, had she not been half awake and intently listening to the words escaping beautiful lips. But, comfort was a rarity Freyja could not indulge often, and truly, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not right now. Could not explain why remaining still in a half seated position so Esme could stay comfortable was so important. It wasn't, Freyja wanted to argue, but the words would sound like a lie, even to herself.
So Freyja stayed still, basking in Esme scent — a fact she would not think about, too — a hand gently massaging the woman's foot while the other rested on the woman's leg, idly drawing patterns on her calf. Don’t think about it. The softly light of the television illumined Esme's features, and Freyja found herself resting her head on the cushions, eyes never once drifting away from the familiar face. "That's rather — interesting," she supplied, voice half a whisper as tenderness filled her bones. "You know a lot about these things, don't you?" It's endearing, Freyja wanted to say, but the words got tangled up in the desire to lean forward and kiss Esme, so she remained quiet, pressing a kiss to the woman's arm instead.
@esmeny
