Steve's eyes are caught staring somewhere between where his hand is still hovering over his own arm, and where the woman has yanked her hand away.
Warm, is his first thought. He knows that warmth, that feeling of contentment and belonging. He may be the only person alive - possibly the only person in history - who's ever felt it three times in their life. His entire body shudders, subtly, at the wash of feeling and emotion that comes over him.
The anger is back, but it's not really directed at her this time, and underneath it, under it but still visible, is grief flooding through him again, and his own fear. He can't. He can't do this again. He can't bear it.
When his voice comes, it's barely above a whisper, and it's agonized.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2018-02-26 07:41 am (UTC)Warm, is his first thought. He knows that warmth, that feeling of contentment and belonging. He may be the only person alive - possibly the only person in history - who's ever felt it three times in their life. His entire body shudders, subtly, at the wash of feeling and emotion that comes over him.
The anger is back, but it's not really directed at her this time, and underneath it, under it but still visible, is grief flooding through him again, and his own fear. He can't. He can't do this again. He can't bear it.
When his voice comes, it's barely above a whisper, and it's agonized.
"Who are you?"