[SEMI-CLOSED] wretched and wild, all glory and trash.

[killtime]

⬤ Permissions Post ⬤
⬤ Open TDM Thread ⬤

Who ⬤ Andromache of Enma & likely questionable company!
What ⬤ Bastard woman desperately seeks naps and other thrilling tales
When ⬤ Catch-all for late June, after the events at Kaigo no Bou, and throughout July
Where ⬤ Andy's apartment (derogatory), various other locations in Jigoku-cho
Content Warnings ⬤ Profanity, violence, substance use, sex, etc. To be updated as needed!


PM or whaler#7695 if you'd like a starter!
Existing CR is welcome to drop wildcards.

Comments

[killtime]

[ Andy lets Emily say and do what she needs to. Under different circumstances, maybe she'd argue against the apology — it's not as if she didn't choose this. She could've walked away any number of times. Their ugly fight would have been enough of an excuse. But instead, here she is, back in Emily's apartment again. She toes her boots off at the door, shrugging her jacket off and hanging it up before coming to join the other woman on the floor.

For a moment or two, she just lets the space and the quiet exist between them. Then, finally, she sinks down on the pillows too, feeling her own tiredness creep up on her. She lays at Emily's back, shifting just a little so that her forehead just barely presses between Emily's shoulder blades.

Finally, quietly: ]

Let me hold you?

[medicative]

...Yes.

[and the moment she does, Andy will feel Emily not so much relax into her as collapse, like taut strings were cut. she wants to cry again, out of stress and shame, gnawing at the edges of her being, that say she's asking too much of Andy. who's checked in on her? after whatever horrors that tower held? who's looking to Andy now?

it's easier to think about this than her own wretched state, to admit she's gone too far, that the precipice she's on is crumbling beneath her. it's too galling to say more, but for now....she does want to be held.]

[killtime]

[ It's easier than it really should be, wrapping her arms around Emily's middle and tugging her just a little closer. Andy's always been a sentimental creature — she was made for holding someone else, for fitting another person's body against her own. She folds Emily in to her chest, her heart steady and strong underneath her ribs, beating in the same rhythm that it has for thousands of years. Maybe there's something reassuring about that. She's solid and warm. The tide of her breath is just barely tangible against the nape of Emily's neck, her nose nudging gently at the fine baby hairs there.

Finally, low and quiet: ]

It'll be alright. I've got you.