IC INBOX ( SAIL )

[goodweather]

TEXT ‎‏‏‎ ☀ ‎‏‏‎ DELIVERY ‎‏‏‎ ❄ ‎‏‏‎ ACTION

cabin: 137

Comments

[goodweather]

... Man. And all the usual barriers to asking despite offers still persist.

"... Sure. As long as you tell me when you c-can't help me any more. I mean it. The second I become too much, and you need t-to stick to yourself, even if it's not some horrible situation... tell me. You gotta say something, and you can take care of yourself, and I'll find someone else to pick up the slack. Okay? I... I'm never gonna feel safe if I don't know when I'm crossing lines."

[not_the_last]

She's quiet for a moment, considering that, going over it in her mind. Nods.

"I understand," she says. "I will."

[goodweather]

He very nearly says you had better as an automatic response before remembering that he's talking to his boss.

"Good," he sighs, "good."

He shifts, wincing again. He moves, then... stops and goes back.

Phil holds out a hand. "Would you help me up, please?"

[not_the_last]

And it's visible to her, the moment when he decides to ask for her help, and it makes her throat ache again -- but for a better feeling this time, complicated and tangled and better.

"Of course," she says. And she straightens up to stand, sets her feet, and reaches to take his hand.

She's much smaller than he is, but not so much that she can't be a counterweight, pull with just enough force at just the right angle to help him to his feet.

[goodweather]

He takes her hand and braces the other against the wall as he achingly pulls himself to his feet. He sighs as he makes it to standing, and looks at her.

“… Thanks. And, um… thanks for this…” he holds up the balm, “… Lady Cassandra.”

[not_the_last]

"You're welcome, Master Connors," she says, meeting his eyes.

(Things aren't wholly well between them, still, she feels -- but well enough for this at least.)

"I hope it does you good."