[She shakes her head at his words. Of course it was dire, of course it didn't look good. But what is a rebellion and a insubordinate, unlikely mission without hope. She wants to close her ears, shut him out, but she just pulls herself closer.
Because despite what he's telling her, what she needs still is to be touched. The effects of the perfume are still in her system. It's hard to vocalize anything, but deep in her gut he wouldn't lie to her. Not about this. There's a heaviness that sets in as she just hugs him. He wasn't alone, but she doesn't remember, and she almost hates this place more for not giving her that.
Her embrace is almost a plea though, asking in ways she still can't verbalize, but eyes welling up.
She's here. He's here. And they aren't on Scarif now.]
no subject
Because despite what he's telling her, what she needs still is to be touched. The effects of the perfume are still in her system. It's hard to vocalize anything, but deep in her gut he wouldn't lie to her. Not about this. There's a heaviness that sets in as she just hugs him. He wasn't alone, but she doesn't remember, and she almost hates this place more for not giving her that.
Her embrace is almost a plea though, asking in ways she still can't verbalize, but eyes welling up.
She's here. He's here. And they aren't on Scarif now.]