One Sabine doesn't entirely have the answer for (or its the right answer for? Has she ever?), and honestly, no need for either. There were subjective qualities to specific definitions of the word that have never applied, and some others that didn't again recently, and ... it didn't matter. It didn't at all.
Because Jack's eyes were filling with tears, and that expression was all cracks. It's where the real broken glass is. Broken glass and shattered walls. Doors that were closed so hard they grew bricks and briars.
There's fear more than anything else; in the cracks of his whisper.
A need not to even hope. Self-preservation.
Sabine's expression softens, saddens, contending with the want to pull him close and take it away, and she holds out a hand. Pale fingers in the air, with wiggle just a little to make sure he happened to look at them and not just look through her as though if he moved his eyes from her face, she would vanish away entirely.
But then she changes her mind. She stepped closer and slipped her fingers into his so he didn't have to take the chance on it first. "We should sit down."
Out of the way of the mess all around them.
Sabine looked away to the nurse, one of many who were relatively familiar faces, if not well known, not far from Jack. "I'm going to borrow Jack here for a minute."
She almost promised to return him. But she ate the lie instead. And just stepped away, tugging him gently to follow her.
no subject
One Sabine doesn't entirely have the answer for (or its the right answer for? Has she ever?), and honestly, no need for either. There were subjective qualities to specific definitions of the word that have never applied, and some others that didn't again recently, and ... it didn't matter. It didn't at all.
Because Jack's eyes were filling with tears, and that expression was all cracks.
It's where the real broken glass is. Broken glass and shattered walls.
Doors that were closed so hard they grew bricks and briars.
There's fear more than anything else;
in the cracks of his whisper.
A need not to even hope.
Self-preservation.
Sabine's expression softens, saddens, contending with the want to pull him close and take it away, and she holds out a hand. Pale fingers in the air, with wiggle just a little to make sure he happened to look at them and not just look through her as though if he moved his eyes from her face, she would vanish away entirely.
But then she changes her mind. She stepped closer and slipped her fingers into his so he didn't have to take the chance on it first. "We should sit down."
Out of the way of the mess all around them.
Sabine looked away to the nurse, one of many who were relatively familiar faces,
if not well known, not far from Jack. "I'm going to borrow Jack here for a minute."
She almost promised to return him. But she ate the lie instead.
And just stepped away, tugging him gently to follow her.