#solarwarmed

[wyhlds]

[ necklace ] sender helps receiver with the clasp of their necklace from behind ( gaby && illya. how have we not done this? )

she wants him, still. after all of this time. gaby thinks, based on the way he quickly steps in to clasp her necklace for her as she lifts it to her neck... the way his fingers trail across her skin, moments longer than they need to, the way she can feel his eyes boring holes into the back of her neck.

she shudders at the touch — not in a bad way. in a way that's just sort of inherent to whatever exists between them. ilya unsettles her, in a way that she can't get nearly enough of, living almost vicariously in a push-pull, will-they-won't-they state.

the necklace goes on, drops down her neck. his fingers are still there. he doesn't move. gaby realizes she's been holding her breath, inhales sharply, turns around. she can't quite make sense of the look on his face. " —thank you."

[wyhlds]

how many fingers am i holding up? ( ollie && mia - he is a CONCERNED DAD )

there's a rock digging into the back of her shoulder, and mia feels like she's been hit by a truck. and really, the second thing is preventing her from fixing the first thing, and that sort of sucks. the thing that's really getting her right now is the one-two combo of the nausea and the fingers on her face — hot, calloused, a little panicked. oliver. of course.

and because it's oliver, mia does her best to crack both her eyes open. she gets up. she always gets up. even when she was thirteen, knock-kneed and barely able to hit a bodyweight squat, she always got back up. but when she gets both eyes open, the world's too bright, and sounds are too loud, and there's two of him hovering over her for a hot second. horrifying to consider.

her eyes shut again, a long groan coming from the back of her throat. what was he asking her ? fingers. he was asking about fingers, and he's not going to give up until she answers on this. and she's not supposed to give up either. the world feels too big for her again when she opens her eyes once more. she focuses in on the hand hovering in front of her eyes. is that shaking, or is that just her vision ?

she can count. she's not dying. she's just really concussed, and panicking is only going to make it worse for dad.

mia inhales, lets it out. "three," she whimpers, letting her eyes fall back shut again. the job's done. the nausea hits then, like a wave. "think i'm gonna be sick."