⋆ 「 @fospherus 's leon said 」 there is no horror left in this world that can surprise me.
a tarnished knee, a bloodied nose, the sudden luck to have captured him, who had told her very little of himself despite her prodding, brought forth some lack of warmth onto her throat. horror settles itself coldly, after the initial burning of a frightened chest, and the aftermath is lonelier than the burst of anxiety. of course, she’s not alone, she’s decided not to be after depositing her tenderhearted trust in his hands, but he rendered himself impossible to reach. human, like a soldier is. eerily calm, is it even possible to reach something human within him ? there’s a firm threat of scolding if she keeps moving her legs childishly as he patches her up, and while it would be easy to catch herself distracted looking at the particularities of his face when talking about himself, she scrunches her nose and stays somewhat still.
it’s quiet, and however horrible it might be to not know where danger might lurk next, she chooses to feel it as a respite. naive, maybe, but the life - fruit is gold in and out of war, its stable vim is encouraged, even if the soil begs otherwise. and for a moment, instead of admiration, she feels pity, and the misplaced responsibility to help him, somehow. ‘ don’t ! ’ is there such a thing as a whispered exclamation ? ‘ stop it leon ! you'll jinx yourself and you'll jinx me, ’ breaking her initial obedience quickly, she reaches for a scrapped piece of wood that must’ve held repentant knees and tired kid’s church shoes. she would’ve been scolded if she scuffed her patent leather ballerinas on them. ashley offers the shard to him. ‘ knock on wood. ’
