She nods, just a bit, not enough to disrupt what he's doing. Her hair is still damp from the shower, but drying the longer he works with it anyway. She likes it. She likes it more than she's willing to say, really, so for a time she doesn't say anything else.
She just lets him work, closing her eyes and leaning into the inside of his knee, listening to him breathe and knowing that for a time anyway, neither of them is hurting. For a time, neither of them will hurt someone else.
That's important, she realizes. Knowing they won't have to hurt someone else any time soon. At least as important as the reverse, not having to brace not to care, or to be put in the position to have to do that to another person. To fight.
She hasn't forgotten where they were before. She's quiet, savoring where they are now for several minutes, but she hasn't forgotten and she doesn't want to just leave it where it was, so eventually she says, quietly, "I was sixteen the first time a boy punched me."
CW: domestic abuse
Date: 2023-09-28 08:59 pm (UTC)From:She just lets him work, closing her eyes and leaning into the inside of his knee, listening to him breathe and knowing that for a time anyway, neither of them is hurting. For a time, neither of them will hurt someone else.
That's important, she realizes. Knowing they won't have to hurt someone else any time soon. At least as important as the reverse, not having to brace not to care, or to be put in the position to have to do that to another person. To fight.
She hasn't forgotten where they were before. She's quiet, savoring where they are now for several minutes, but she hasn't forgotten and she doesn't want to just leave it where it was, so eventually she says, quietly, "I was sixteen the first time a boy punched me."