She considers it - help, here? A week ago, she was no one, just another servant, a servant to servants, no less. Yet here she was, in the home of Mythal, speaking to one of her personal attendants.
It isn't, simply, put, what she expects. But she is too naive to even wonder if she shouldn't trust him. Gingerly, her hand lifts, the shake of unsureness, he was a dull shape against her half-closed eyes, but she looks for his hand. The help that he offered.
That once she finds, she puts her hand to the back of his. Light only held by the tips of her fingers. Directing it upward. Looking for the coolness there, too, up and up until she can direct him to her face. Both her hands now, like a prayer, open palms against the back of his knuckles so she could cup his hand to her cheek. Her mouth opening in a soft breath against his skin, lips soft. She missed her Kashi so, so terribly. "Please. Before I scratch my face to scars."
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It isn't, simply, put, what she expects. But she is too naive to even wonder if she shouldn't trust him. Gingerly, her hand lifts, the shake of unsureness, he was a dull shape against her half-closed eyes, but she looks for his hand. The help that he offered.
That once she finds, she puts her hand to the back of his. Light only held by the tips of her fingers. Directing it upward. Looking for the coolness there, too, up and up until she can direct him to her face. Both her hands now, like a prayer, open palms against the back of his knuckles so she could cup his hand to her cheek. Her mouth opening in a soft breath against his skin, lips soft. She missed her Kashi so, so terribly. "Please. Before I scratch my face to scars."