[ She can't say whether or not growing up in Purgatory has prepared her for something like a life here, but maybe it has; maybe it's because she knows what it's like to try and balance normal alongside the strange, the monstrous, the evil, that she figures she's not going to let this town's horrors stop her from trying to have something good, for once.
And this is good, for all the ups and downs they've had, everything from surprisingly easy conversation about favorite food and movies back when they had no idea what the other person looked like to the brutally honest exchanges that had almost threatened to break her heart and leave her to pick up the pieces. What they have is ultimately good because they've both chosen to hold on to it, to fight for it in equal measure, to protect each other, not just in their willingness to shield the other's body but their vulnerabilities, those exposures they've handed over for safekeeping. She realized a long time ago that she gave him her heart to guard whether she wanted to or not, and it scares her, but not enough to stop.
Somewhere between the jokes and the tension, the pain and the carefree moments, the ghosts of their pasts and the possibility of a shared future, they've carved out something meaningful, and she's changed by it every day.
She hums lightly when he turns to her, delivers a kiss there to her forehead and then eases back toward the pillows in answer; after a beat, she shifts onto hands and knees and follows him in that crawl, chuckling softly until she can worm her way beneath the blankets and tuck herself into the space he makes for her against all that warm skin. The moment she brings her head to rest against his shoulder, she's already leaning in to press her lips to his chest, a soft brush that doesn't try to initiate anything else while she slings her arm over his waist, fingertips absently stroking against his lower back. ]
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And this is good, for all the ups and downs they've had, everything from surprisingly easy conversation about favorite food and movies back when they had no idea what the other person looked like to the brutally honest exchanges that had almost threatened to break her heart and leave her to pick up the pieces. What they have is ultimately good because they've both chosen to hold on to it, to fight for it in equal measure, to protect each other, not just in their willingness to shield the other's body but their vulnerabilities, those exposures they've handed over for safekeeping. She realized a long time ago that she gave him her heart to guard whether she wanted to or not, and it scares her, but not enough to stop.
Somewhere between the jokes and the tension, the pain and the carefree moments, the ghosts of their pasts and the possibility of a shared future, they've carved out something meaningful, and she's changed by it every day.
She hums lightly when he turns to her, delivers a kiss there to her forehead and then eases back toward the pillows in answer; after a beat, she shifts onto hands and knees and follows him in that crawl, chuckling softly until she can worm her way beneath the blankets and tuck herself into the space he makes for her against all that warm skin. The moment she brings her head to rest against his shoulder, she's already leaning in to press her lips to his chest, a soft brush that doesn't try to initiate anything else while she slings her arm over his waist, fingertips absently stroking against his lower back. ]