[ She knows this sort of thing intimately. The invisible weight of burden and loss and misery that sometimes is heavier and other times is light and weakened enough that you almost can forget about it. The breaks never fully cease, though, because they're there. Always. It cloaks you like chains locked around you, twisted and encircled in a way you might not be able to move. Not forward and most certainly never back. You never can go back from where you were now and that's one of the hardest things to accept.
At first she thinks he might be ignoring her or having a full-on panic attack and if his breath didn't start to steady she would've guided him to sit and put his head between his legs. She's been inconsolable herself in the past, shaking with anger and ready to draw blood with a ferocity that is rarely clear yet is nearly always present inside of her. It still burns inside of her, turning everything to ash. She wants nothing more than to dispel it, but she's come to accept it and now uses it to her advantage -- tries to, anyway. It's passion now, not pain.
Her head shakes, though she doesn't speak just yet. It's just a small gesture to indicate that if he thinks something is broken or impossible to repair, that it isn't the case. That she's still here, that she's not kicked him through the wall, that everything is just as normal as it was before. Just more... aware. ]
It's alright. We've both been through some shit, haven't we? And I can't blame you for going for one last try. [ She smiles weakly like she might chuckle, but instead she just keeps her eyes on him like she means to ground him with a stare. ] Just try to take it easy.
[ Finally, she lets go of him now that he seems aware and more grounded. But she lifts a hand and gives his arm a punch. It's so light and weak that it's clearly a patented Jill tease and not meant to be taken seriously. ]
You and me, we're fine. Is there anything I can do for you, though? I'm gonna ditch and go take a breather -- not your kind of a breather -- if not. Otherwise I'll hang out with you?
never doubt ya boi
At first she thinks he might be ignoring her or having a full-on panic attack and if his breath didn't start to steady she would've guided him to sit and put his head between his legs. She's been inconsolable herself in the past, shaking with anger and ready to draw blood with a ferocity that is rarely clear yet is nearly always present inside of her. It still burns inside of her, turning everything to ash. She wants nothing more than to dispel it, but she's come to accept it and now uses it to her advantage -- tries to, anyway. It's passion now, not pain.
Her head shakes, though she doesn't speak just yet. It's just a small gesture to indicate that if he thinks something is broken or impossible to repair, that it isn't the case. That she's still here, that she's not kicked him through the wall, that everything is just as normal as it was before. Just more... aware. ]
It's alright. We've both been through some shit, haven't we? And I can't blame you for going for one last try. [ She smiles weakly like she might chuckle, but instead she just keeps her eyes on him like she means to ground him with a stare. ] Just try to take it easy.
[ Finally, she lets go of him now that he seems aware and more grounded. But she lifts a hand and gives his arm a punch. It's so light and weak that it's clearly a patented Jill tease and not meant to be taken seriously. ]
You and me, we're fine. Is there anything I can do for you, though? I'm gonna ditch and go take a breather -- not your kind of a breather -- if not. Otherwise I'll hang out with you?