( With the glass out of the way, Shealtiel does something strange. The floor is still damp where the towel hasn’t soaked it up, and it’s mixed with blood from Azula’s injuries… He’s still got it on his own pajamas.
But he moves to sit next to her, his shoulder just barely bumping against hers in the quietest sign of comfort. He wonders if Luci would be proud of him, even if he doesn’t have the strength to reach out his hand so literally. )
You don’t owe me anything, either. Not even an apology.
( He doesn’t deserve it anyway, he thinks… but that’s overshadowed right now by his concern for someone he’s understanding closer than he’s used to. It’s like… demons. But without the trauma and worry associated with relating to them.
He hugs his own knees the same way, just sitting there for as long as it seems like it might help. )
no subject
But he moves to sit next to her, his shoulder just barely bumping against hers in the quietest sign of comfort. He wonders if Luci would be proud of him, even if he doesn’t have the strength to reach out his hand so literally. )
You don’t owe me anything, either. Not even an apology.
( He doesn’t deserve it anyway, he thinks… but that’s overshadowed right now by his concern for someone he’s understanding closer than he’s used to. It’s like… demons. But without the trauma and worry associated with relating to them.
He hugs his own knees the same way, just sitting there for as long as it seems like it might help. )