[ It's not like she'd actually started the seven-stranded braid anyway, so swapping places is easy. She just sets herself down in front of him, legs crossed. ]
[The movement to reach for the tie doesn't get far. He goes completely still, the mirth evaporating from the air and leaving his mouth dry and the pit of his stomach cold. Dark eyes stare at her wrist, the expression swiftly being wiped from his face.]
[ It's not that she didn't notice the bruises on her wrists before now, just that she didn't fully think about what others might think about them. If she had, would she have covered them up? ]
[He doesn't just see the bruises. He can feel them. The chair hits the floor, he stands up and begins pacing erratically, feeling rather like he's watching himself get upset.]
How'd you...wh...what happened?
[He knows she's sexually active, but he also knows Devigny is in town. He remembers the bruises he healed on her in their shared dream, remembers the ones he had to heal on himself under threat of retribution.]
[Fingers curl in his hair, tear at it so the pain brings him closer to reality or at least stops him drifting away from it. That seems to help. A hand presses against the cool stone of one wall, fingernails scraping. That seems to help as well, though it starts to feel like it's only prolonging it.]
No! No, Colin. Look at me, [ Athessa gestures at herself, aura to core, her entire being. ] I wouldn't be so calm about it if he'd gotten close enough.
[He knows that, but if the things he knew mattered, would he be feeling her bruises on his own skin?
His face turns blank, so blank it seems he has left his body for a moment. Then, his eyes turn to her, focusing, eyelids fluttering a couple of times before his chest expands.
She's here. She wouldn't be here if this weren't now and not then.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Satisfied with the five-strand braid, she undoes it all and combs through his hair. A soft reset before attempting a seven-strand. ]
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Thanks. Not that I ever do anything with it, but. Thanks.
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[ And before Derrica showed her how to properly care for them, the curls would get ripped through with a brush and tangle instantly. ]
I just can't be bothered.
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You sure you remember how?
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[ It's not like she'd actually started the seven-stranded braid anyway, so swapping places is easy. She just sets herself down in front of him, legs crossed. ]
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Hair tie?
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Your...
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[ It's not that she didn't notice the bruises on her wrists before now, just that she didn't fully think about what others might think about them. If she had, would she have covered them up? ]
Just a bruise, it's fine.
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How'd you...wh...what happened?
[He knows she's sexually active, but he also knows Devigny is in town. He remembers the bruises he healed on her in their shared dream, remembers the ones he had to heal on himself under threat of retribution.]
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Nothing bad!
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Was it him? Was it Devigny?
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His face turns blank, so blank it seems he has left his body for a moment. Then, his eyes turn to her, focusing, eyelids fluttering a couple of times before his chest expands.
She's here. She wouldn't be here if this weren't now and not then.]
Not real, [he mumbles.]
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He's dead.
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Who's dead?
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It's 9:46, [he murmurs.] Nothing's happening to either of us anymore. Devigny's dead.
[Blink. Blinkblink. Wait.]
How? When?
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Deimos killed him.
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