[It stings, like he had been slapped across the face by the palm of her hand. His fingers curl, he makes two fists by his waist that he feels like pushing through the wall nearby. She's right... again. It was Letho, not him.
He's glad for the subject change, and then again he isn't. He wants to say something more than sorry, say anything that can describe how guilty he feels about being forced to choose between her and a dragon.] The same things are going on here as they were in the Kingdoms.
[He can't stand it, how hurt she looks. He reaches up regardless of what she does and brushes the very tips of his calloused figers over, softly, the ridge of her cheek, scrutinizing the wounds, the cuts, the bruises.]
no subject
He's glad for the subject change, and then again he isn't. He wants to say something more than sorry, say anything that can describe how guilty he feels about being forced to choose between her and a dragon.] The same things are going on here as they were in the Kingdoms.
[He can't stand it, how hurt she looks. He reaches up regardless of what she does and brushes the very tips of his calloused figers over, softly, the ridge of her cheek, scrutinizing the wounds, the cuts, the bruises.]