[ There's a soft exhale, a stab wound, blood leaving the lungs. It hurts, but wounds heal over and don't leave scars on him anymore. No, he doesn't know what's in front of him; she's never been a thing. She thinks she is, but she loves and hurts like a person does. ]
[ And she's touching him like he's the one that needs comforting, and isn't that a cause for shame. Slowly, almost reflexively, Jim raises his left hand to ghost over her cheek, but drops it, and eases out of her grip, not breaking eye contact. ]
I know.
[ Known now, known for a while, the weight is the same. He never wants to face anything. ]
no subject
[ And she's touching him like he's the one that needs comforting, and isn't that a cause for shame. Slowly, almost reflexively, Jim raises his left hand to ghost over her cheek, but drops it, and eases out of her grip, not breaking eye contact. ]
I know.
[ Known now, known for a while, the weight is the same. He never wants to face anything. ]