⟣ NONVERBAL PROMPTS, ACCEPTING. ⋯ @finalcircle ( jamie fraser )
11. sender runs their fingers through receiver’s hair.
the ridge is large enough in daylight with the sounds of the horses neighing, rollo’s barks and her parents’ woodworking, but blanketed in the hour of dusk it looms large enough to swallow her whole. beyond the horizon the sun peeks forward, scattering familiar lines of yellow across the dark blue sky. no sounds scrape past her ears, no shadowy movements scurrying along the tree side catch her eye, for that is how deep she has fallen within her own mind. for a moment brianna is not at the ridge, but in a wilmington tavern ─ her weary heart caves in with terror & her once warm-blooded veins freeze over as a spectre passes by. she cannot tell if the ghost’s hair is dark or light, or if his smile is laced in kindness or cruelty. against the wooden floorboards her feet are like lead, an impossible weight to carry away from the torment of her memories ─ until suddenly she is pulled feet first back to reality by the creaking hinges of her parents’ front door.
brianna had come seeking the familiarity of her mother’s comforting embrace after one too many restless hours of night terrors, but before her knuckles had scraped against the wood of their door, another unwelcome fear had set in: she still felt much like a guest, an intruder in her mother & jamie’s peaceful existence. to come banging upon their door like a child in the night ... brianna assumed it would not be long until sun up, & decided she would sit on their stoop until the eerie darkness of night let up for the dawn. in the light of day her fears were not so bright nor so loud.
her father’s surprised whisper of her name ( a leannan, he calls her. it warms her heart yet fills it with such guilt she wishes he would not. ) sends her paralysed figure into action. hands leap to her cheeks, wet from tears she hadn’t realised had spilled past her eyelashes, & in a hurry not to worry him so she wipes them dry. ❝ i’m sorry. i couldn’t sleep, so i ── ❞ the false explanation brianna had hoped would come to her in the moment had not, and so she trailed off, swallowing the ever-growing lump in her throat. ❝ i didn’t want to wake you. ❞ the weight of a warm arm slung round her shoulders quiets her apologetic words, & with a tug of her body she is sequestered against jamie’s shoulder. strangely enough her golden gaze fills with tears again, though this time not out of fear. with a shaky smile bree helplessly blinks them away, shaking her head as if embarrassed at her own foolishness. yet another apology rolls to the tip of her tongue, but when her lips part to form the words, a warm hand slips past the blanket wrapped around her shoulders & into the hair at the nape of her neck, quieting her before she’s able to say a word. a sigh slips past her lips instead, head falling to rest against his shoulder, face hidden against the length of his throat. come morning she will recognise the moment for what it was, a daughter safeguarded in the arms of her father, & bury it until the stormy waves of guilt settle. ❝ mama always said you were so gentle. i don’t know if i really believed her. ❞ it is a feat in itself that she manages to open her eyes, nearly lulled to slumber as she was from the tenderness of his touch. ❝ a mighty highlander warrior, so attentive and gentle with his wife’s hair. ❞ for a moment’s worth it is as if he has her mother’s healing hands, the threading of his fingers through her curls pulling the tension & ache from her skull. ❝ i couldn’t reconcile those parts of you when you were just a story. but i believe her now. ❞
