She sees the cold come over him as surely as she's felt it on herself, and
she regards him steadily, unmoving even in the face of the clipped way he
says her name like a warning.
Caitlin doesn't say anything. She doesn't push any further than she already
has, and yes -- she knows she's toeing a line, here, but if she doesn't
take the risk to nudge Fraser right to the edge of that line, close enough
to see what's on the other side of it, then she's not really doing her job
as well as she could.
She's relieved when he does speak, in words that are quiet and a little
ragged, like something inside of him is starting to get a little scuffed
up, not quite as pressed and polished as the facade he wants to show the
world. And even if there's an exasperation with it, even if he's
tired, she knows this can only be good. Caitlin smiles, and makes a
sort of aborted attempt to reach for his hand, thinking better of it almost
as soon as she has the thought in the first place. The truth is enough, for
right now, without having to heap physical contact on top of it.
And she's skeptical, but he repeats the phrase with a little more
confidence, and she's sure that she can believe him. This, she'll take at
face value. "Good," she says, still gentle, with the quietest emphasis.
"I'm sorry you had to go through something awful like that when I wasn't
there to help. You know if I'd been awake I'd have been right there with
you, right?"
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timeasmymeasure
Re: orite prose is a thing
Date: 2019-03-30 11:03 pm (UTC)She sees the cold come over him as surely as she's felt it on herself, and she regards him steadily, unmoving even in the face of the clipped way he says her name like a warning.
Caitlin doesn't say anything. She doesn't push any further than she already has, and yes -- she knows she's toeing a line, here, but if she doesn't take the risk to nudge Fraser right to the edge of that line, close enough to see what's on the other side of it, then she's not really doing her job as well as she could.
She's relieved when he does speak, in words that are quiet and a little ragged, like something inside of him is starting to get a little scuffed up, not quite as pressed and polished as the facade he wants to show the world. And even if there's an exasperation with it, even if he's tired, she knows this can only be good. Caitlin smiles, and makes a sort of aborted attempt to reach for his hand, thinking better of it almost as soon as she has the thought in the first place. The truth is enough, for right now, without having to heap physical contact on top of it.
And she's skeptical, but he repeats the phrase with a little more confidence, and she's sure that she can believe him. This, she'll take at face value. "Good," she says, still gentle, with the quietest emphasis. "I'm sorry you had to go through something awful like that when I wasn't there to help. You know if I'd been awake I'd have been right there with you, right?"